If there is anyone who could get my husband to vote with enthusiasm, it would be her.
Def. In. Itly.
And really, what's not to like? She's a gun owner and eats caribou. Yummy yummy venison. She rides a motorcycle. She's like Ted Nugent, only gubernatorial and female. And purdy.
Hippies could love this woman, too. Here are her kids names and ages: Track, 19; Bristol 17; Willow, 14, Piper, 7, and baby Trig. If those aren't Woodstock names, I don't know what is. Poor Hillary. Quo vadis, Demonatrix? Off seething somewhere, I imagine. Total coolness in the utmost! Ah yes, I was going to talk about dinner. Tonight's ham haramfest.
Now, it has been several years since I had a decent smoked ham. Uncured, smoked ham. The reason being is this person:
Yes, my number one child, 21 years of age HATES HAM! This is the face she would make if I said, "Emily, we are having ham, tonight."
The thought of eating it repulses her. Oh, she won't give you some PETA lecture as to why it isn't good for you eat ham, but she will consult her internal thesaurus for an endless stream of antiham invective that would make veal blush. And she is lactose intolerant, so she has to drink soy milk. which I haven't really developed a taste for, yet, but I try, I really do. AND she is allergic to cats, so we won't be eating any of those any time soon, either....heh.
Well, Oldest child has moved out and got herself a house with two night owls who don't understand why she needs to go to bed so early. (She works at 5 am.) So I get lots of whiny calls, sometimes, and others, I get to talk to an adult! It is really nice to be able to talk to an adult for a change.
And tonight I made a mustard brown sugar glazed ham, which was enjoyed by three of the six people who used to eat dinner together. The leftovers will make a ham pot pie tomorrow night.
Rachel loves ham, really really loves ham, and I figure, it has been at least 5 years since we had any ham at the dinner table for no reason, not even Sunday dinner.
In Irksome Middle Child News, we turned her phone off....she still thinks curfew laws are merely suggestions, and so, while texting something reeeeeaaallly reeeaaally important, the Hubster called AT&T and had them turn off her phone. It was a pleasure to see her with her comatose phone, unable to get it to do her bidding. Scowls and stomping ensued, with slamming doors, but, afflicted with Schadenfreuditis, we enjoyed watching her suffer from yak yak withdrawals. Mayhap we will turn on the phone sometime soon, mayhap we won't. I'm leaning toward the mayhap we don't.
Well, next week is more convention madness, from Lake Woebegone. Garrison Keillor must not be thrilled with the Army of Hateristic Racism and Oppression of Womyn everywhere. And meanwhile, the City of New Orleans has preemptively accused the Republican Party for whatever damage happens with hurricane Gustave. Are we surprised? Oh well. They never learn. At any rate, I hope there is minimal damage, if any at all. Mayhap it will just be a load of rain, and mayhap it will be something worse.
I thought about putting a Cat Scratch Fever Youtube video here, but I'm too damn tired. I'll think of something later.