Woke up to rain. It rained all day yesterday and was raining when the Sandman showed up last night. While that’s much better than all the ice they’ve been predicting, I’d still rather be dry than wet. I had mentioned on the Book of Face that our much heralded ice event was a bust, on account of the storm track moving North, and because I had gotten my generator started. Well, mostly because the generator decided to play ball. This comes under the cause and effect clause. I haven’t let the weather boys know how this works yet, but I am sure they’ll back me up on this.
*Remember, some of these guys are claiming to know exactly how the climate works, but strangely can’t get 3 day forecasts nailed down. Is Al Gore even a weather man? Asking for a friend.
If I had not gotten the generator started, I am almost positive that this part of the country would be a giant hockey rink, with no warming house and powerless to boot. But no, I had averted disaster by bowing to the wife’s wishes and a getting spark plug that was close to what I needed. A 12 instead of a 14 model. Not quite as sparky, but good enough. However, if you Girl Power advocates were to change the narrative here, you might say that my wife saved the day by forcing doltish me to listen to common sense. But, but I was the one with the 5/8ths inch spark plug wrench up my sleeve, and while the Mrs makes a mean samich, she’s a bit short on obscure tools. As my Dad used to say, if you ain’t cheatin, you ain’t trying.
As I said, we woke to rain. When it came time for Mrs Chef to ask what I wanted for breakfast, I was uninspired. I couldn’t quite face the traditional fried eggs on toast, as Monday mornings usually require. With all this moisture, mildew could be lurking. I asked her what she wanted to eat, knowing the answer could involve ranch dressing and or a salad. I am here to tell ya, boys and girls are different. You may not like it, but that ain’t gonna change anything. She somewhat surprised me with “I don’t know.” We both shook our heads and compromised with plain old eggs on toast and hold the mildew, for me and something close but not quite for her.
They say necessity is the Mother of invention, and while being stumped on what to eat for breakfast might not really qualify here, it did cause me to remember her making some killer meatloaf yesterday. With that thought, one thing led to another and I ended up changing my breakfast order. Since she uses mostly cast iron for cookware, you’ve got some time, while all that righteous iron heats up, to change your mind. And that’s the great thing about Mrs Chef. If she’s got it in the house, she’ll make it the way you want it.
I ended up ordering, in a clear voice and forthright manner, a meatloaf breakfast commercial. She had some biscuits left over from a few days back, meatloaf from yesterday, gravy from the meatloaf, and fried eggs. She was swell enough to cut the meatloaf to the exact size of the biscuit circumference and everything. Suddenly a rainy Monday was looking pretty dang good. Sweet Pea the dog thought so too, because I have a wet spot on my shoe where he was discreetly drooling in anticipation of his breakfast. So rainy days and Mondays may always get you down, unless you’ve played your cards right and the worst you might end up with is a somewhat damp foot.