Hey everyone,

Sorry I neglected you for the past couple of days. When I left you, I was given a kind of offer, nothing in writing. For the rest of the week I have been having multiple interviews per day, gather work samples and creating samples for things I didn’t have.

Finally, late this afternoon, after the third interview of the day, I got a solid offer. It came after I interviewed with the Vice President who said, “Now that’s someone I can have a drink with.”

I start on Tuesday and will be in Texas next week and Sioux Falls every other week after that. Thank you for your encouragement and well wishes.

Now I’m off to watch trashy TV – an entire season of Amish Mafia. I love that infighting.

I glippie-trippie-seed myself. For those not in the medical industry, an explanation.

I tripped over a cord. Just as I recovered, I tripped on a rug, slamming my palm into the corner of my desk. I twisted my other hand against my desk (both bruised).

Then, in order to stop myself, I rammed my head into a wooden shelf. Though it may be more accurate to say the shelf stopped me as I was moving and it was not.

To summarize, Glippie-trippie-seed: a double trip ending with a few tears and a big ouch. Resulting in a headache involving no alcohol. Followed up with several Advil. You probably saw it in the Olympics.

If Advil wants to sponsor me, I can find other shameless ways to plug their drug.

Holy Moly. Mother of Super Yahuperness. I have a job offer. It’s in the Dakotas so I just need a way to get there and really warm clothes. Don’t know whether I’m excited or panicked, probably both. I’m inspired, perchance a haiku

Yeah yeah yeah

I don’t know what to say

I know haiku’s aren’t supposed to rhyme

But I can’t help myself most of the time

I have a jooob

I have a jooob

I have a jooob

I’ll try to write something of substance tomorrow. If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you know that’s a lie. I never post anything of substance.

I’ve had a couple of bosses who were able to appreciate my sense of humor.

I was working on a project with about 75 people, 60 of whom were vegetarians. We were working particularly late one night, so a manager, lets call him Randall, ordered pizzas for everyone.

When the smell of Italian seasoning and bread filled my cube, I meandered on down to the conference room of delicious goodness.

The table was loaded with pizza of every description: salami, sausage, pepperoni, and so on. Until we got to the last two pizzas which were vegetarian. I stood there by Randall observing the luscious display.

I said, “Next time you should get more vegetarian. You know almost everyone’s a vegetarian.”

He said, “I did.”

“I only see two.”

“There’s those mushroom, onion, and bacon pizzas.”

I waited.

“Oh crap, bacon.You must think I’m an idiot.”

“No, I prefer special.”

If you’ve come to this blog looking for the book Live, Laugh, Love, move along. Don’t read any further, nothing to see here.

This blog is Scream, Cry, Jump Up and Down with a Little PMS and Lots of Alcohol thrown in. My furnace is broken. It was 18F. And my space heater broke. Argh, I may not get out of bed until spring.

I have several bosses that I loved working for. The most fun are the ones who play along with my insanity. One of my bosses moved to France and I miss her horribly. Her name was Elizabeth, so I called her Lizardibreath to her face. And behind her back.

There was a particular incident that demonstrates our relationship.

I was having  lunch at my desk: burger, fries, a packet of salt and of course a diet soda.  

Lizard-breath came stomping around the corner. We could all hear her coming. The click, click of her high heels running through the isle ways made grown men cringe.

“I need you to …”

I held up my hand for her to stop, opened the packet of salt and sprinkled it in a circle around my chair. “Ok, now what?” I asked.

She responded without skipping a beat. “I’m not a witch, I’m a vampire. I need you to ….”

“Damn it, I forgot the garlic salt.”

“Go through the clients records and …”

She was always up for the game. I really miss Lizard-breath. She just had to move to France. How insensitive can one person be?

I have a whole shelf full of recipes from my ancestors, some of which are really great. Others are a bit odd. Someone has included notes on how to buy meat from the butcher. That tells you where most of the meat came from.

I’m not going to tell you how to make a crown roast out of hotdogs. I’ll save that for another day. Today is squirrel roasting day. Getting gigglie yet?

For this recipe you’ll need 3 small squirrels (so send a boy out with a good BB gun, they’ll generally drag you back a couple).

You’ll also need cooking oil, (We’re getting fancy now, usually it just lard or grease.) lemon juice, bread crumbs, milk, (Use cream if you’re having the preacher over.) mushrooms, salt, pepper, onion juice, (There aren’t instructions for juicing an onion, hum.) and bacon fat (My Gramm’s didn’t fail me. She says, “There’s no substitute for bacon lard.”)

I think it goes without saying but just in case dress, clean and wash the critters before you start. Marinade the meat with oil and lemon juice for at least 1 hour. Yum-Yum sounding good already, doesn’t it?

Stuff the squirrels with everything else. Sew it up, truss it and roast. Brush it with the bacon fat every 15 minutes. Serve it up with some pan gravy. And there you have it.

Ah heck, I should’ve put this recipe out for Thanksgiving. I apologize.

P.S If you don’t know who to dress and clean a squirrel, I’ll include that in the Braised Moose recipe. I’ll try to get to it before Easter.


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