Eat a big meal.

Wait,  isn’t that the name of some singer from the East Coast?  And what’s worse,  I just now started to write,  “eat” coast.  Oh man,  talk about subliminal messages.

I’m perhaps feeling the effects of just maybe one too many glasses of wine.  Again,  almost wrote “whine”.   Need to stop that.





See,  both Travelling Companion and I are in a bit of a funk today since,  well they’ve changed some personnel at the company that cannot be named,  and she doesn’t much care for change,  and Daughter Number One just called from her house,  where she’s all moved in and everything,  and we WERE NOT THERE.   I know I might not have been able to keep up with their helpers,  (apparently something like 14 people were there to help with the move)  but I sure would have enjoyed seeing it all happen.  Sucks to be away some times.  Dammit!
The grand scheme of things was to cook up the Chicken Risotto dish for ourselves tonight,  but at one point I just offered to whip up something simple,  since I really didn’t feel like dealing with what is pretty much a “busy” meal,  for lack of a better term.  There are a lot of ingredients,  some of which I need to hoof it far and wide to locate.  That of course means that there’s a certain amount of commitment there,  so just saying,  "Meh,  I don’t feel like it”,  really doesn’t cut it.  Especially since the chicken has to be cooked at some point anyway.
So fine,  we not only had enough for dinner,  but will be eating Chicken Risotto for at least a couple days.  And I’m not really a big left over fan.
Yesterday I mentioned something about changing sensibilities,  or something to that effect,  and I thought I should maybe elaborate.

Like you care.

I mentioned to Travelling Companion that I was quite enjoying following the travels of this one particular couple and their very old dog,  who are presently going around the Cabot Trail.  Now,  for those who don’t know,  I’ve been around the Cabot Trail a couple times.  Once,  many many years ago,  (like when I was 16) with my brother,  his wife,  their two kids and my Parental Units.   It was interesting to say the least.  (Gawd,  it’s a wonder my old man lived as long as he did)  Then,  many years later,  after having only just begun a job where I was to receive honest to God vacation time,  I once again went around the Cabot Trail in a rented class “C” motor home.   This time with Travelling Companion and our two kids. Again, “interesting”  since both Travelling Companion and I had just quit smoking,  and of course,  the Cabot Trail is a little “hilly”.  And that’s an understatement.
I may be paraphrasing here somewhat,  but I’m pretty sure Travelling Companion said when we got home from that trip,  “I don’t think I ever want to do that again in my life”.

Um…OK.  Since I can be a little dense, probably a good thing that there was no need to read between the lines there I suppose. 
Anyway,  when I mentioned all the pictures that were being posted and all that bla bla,  she once again made it known that she never wanted to “do that again”.   But here’s the thing, I pointed out to her that not only was the motor home that we were driving WAY underpowered for some of the hills on The Cabot Trail,  but that she’s also no longer the “nervous Nelly” who would freak out if we had to actually drive in Toronto, for example.
  Living in Europe will tend to change a person.    I was also quick to point out to her that she was texting on her crackberry last week as we were barrelling down the Autobahn in Germany at 200 k.p.h.    She had no freakin’ idea!  And would never have had any clue,  unless I had pointed it out to her.   Mind you,  if we had been in a 1972 Olds Cutlass Supreme,  it most assuredly would have been noticeable,  but perhaps the ride is a bit smoother in a three series BMW? 

Only a guess.




Let me think now,  which
one would I want to drive down the Autobahn at 200 kph??

 
Hm?



Anyway, I’m sure Nephew Boy would have noticed,  since he thought it prudent to point out that I was “Doing a hundred miles an hour in Austria”.   Why he felt the need to convert to miles is a bit of a mystery.  Since when do we use miles?
That was later when we crossed over into Austria.  They do have a speed limit of 130.   A helpful bit of information I'm sure, but I have a pretty good idea where the traffic cameras are by now.  Thanks Nephew Boy. Go back to sleep.  Nothing like a head bobbing back seat passenger,  but that’s a whole other story. 

There was even a plan afoot this weekend to boot it down to Slovenia,  since it is,  after all,  a long weekend.   The thing is,  there’s just not a huge desire for any road trips for the next little while.  And yes,  Monday is a holiday here in Austria.   (Sometimes they kind of sneak up on us?)
Tomorrow is “Pfingstmontag”,  which is “Whit Monday”,  which is also 50 days after Easter*.  I can’t even begin to have a clue.  Seriously, all I worry about is that the stores are closed,  and just what the hell are we going to eat? That’s about it. 

But hey!  We got them leftovers.  It’s all good.

It’s such fun to learn these little snippets*,  isn’t it??



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