I plan to grill some lamb chops with pesto, zucchini with parmesan, sliced tomatoes with basil. Berries and whipped cream (Cool Whip actually, but I take what I can get!) for dessert. All thanks to Costco's wonderful selection of fresh produce and meat. The only problem I have when shopping there, is recognizing when to stop! For two old people, who basically thrive on "roughage", Costco is hog heaven. I am sure we will be able to consume the flat of tomatoes we bought before they turn, as well as the huge quantity of cherries and grapes. Of course, I couldn't pass by the berries - they literally jumped into the cart. So, after cramming it all into our frig (not a small one, either) we have enough food to feed a small country. And next week? We will go back and do it again! Life is good.
A small miracle has happened at our house. I am known for my aversion to the outdoors. Any activity that could expose me to ultra violet light, temperatures above 23º or contact with lower life forms (insects, bad men, nasty women) is completely out of the question. Or, at least it was. We have been dining outside for the past week, enjoying the luxury of watching the sun set, and then lighting candles so we can enjoy one more cup of tea... The bugs haven't been a problem...either that, or the glass of wine with supper really must take the edge off the hysteria.
Did I mention that I am scared stiff of bugs? Butterflies, too. Creepy crawlies or flying things. They have evil intent, as far as I can see. Just yesterday, while at my beloved Costco, I was attacked by a grasshopper. Feature this. Acres of pavement. Barely a tree in sight. I am minding my own business with the car window open to get rid of the hot air when this creature just hops in from nowhere and land on my thigh. Of course, my husband happened to be pulling out of the parking stall at the time, and I guess my gut wrenching, blood curdling scream must have alerted him to the danger. After he pried his nails out of the steering wheel, he helped me check the car from one end to the other for this threat to life that had evidently hopped out of the window trying to avoid the flailing and thrashing about that ensued after his discovery.
Rick has learned to not even try to explain away my fears. He just deals with them, much like a spray bottle full of water marked "nightmare repellent" soothes a three year old. He becomes MAN. The great white hunter. He can snatch any threat to WOMAN from the air with his bare hands, and dash it to pieces with one fell swoop of his hand. He can tackle killer moths after being aroused from a dead sleep without a murmur of complaint, and spiders are no match for this fearless man. Not bad for a guy that cries at chick flicks, eh?