The post title has nothing to do with the post. It's the Black Sabbath song that Josh has been singing, OVER AND OVER AGAIN, for the last 15 minutes, since he saw a commercial for the movie.
In the past, on 9/11 I have written something heartfelt about the blue sky and the confusing, sad day. But I have nothing different to say this year. So, let's discuss more prosaic matters, shall we?
Hey, isn't it great that there is a word, "prosaic" that rhymes with "mosaic", in case you are writing a limerick? About retiling your bathroom?
Which reminds me. Once, Evangeline mused thoughtfully that limerick writers everywhere must be thankful for the words lusty, busty, and thrusty.
Yes, I drank wine with dinner. Why do you ask?
Speaking of dinner, goddammit, I cooked a good dinner tonight. It's my week, you know. Y'all keep track, right? I'm trying to convert Josh to vegetarianism, so all my dinners this week are fucking awesome vegetarian dinners. Tonight it was Penne Pasta with Swiss Chard, and roasted butternut squash on the side. The words do not BEGIN to convey how incredibly delicious this meal was.
Oh, wait? You didn't know I was a vegetarian? I'm not, really. But I'm always threatening to become one. You KNOW how I am about the animals. The thing is, I have no problem with the basic concept of eating animals, and I would happily eat a nice flank steak from a cow that I knew had lived a happy life in a field of clover and then died very suddenly and painlessly. But the whole meat market scenario makes me very, very unhappy.
So, hooray for roasted squash! And entire bottles of red wine on a Tuesday night!
Dinner-making was punctuated with a lot of conversation about next summer. You know how Josh's parents take us to the beach every summer for the past 18 years? Because they are nice? God knows we are ungrateful little shits (and I am including Josh's sister here) who complain from time to time about the lack of amenities at the Fenwick Island beach house that we have rented for the past 5 summers, or the amount of time that we must spend rubbing elbows with all our relatives (hi! that's me!), when in fact we should be embracing togetherness and thanking God for our good fortune.
So, we are looking for a new beach house to rent this year, and the family consensus is that we should go to the Outer Banks which is where we USED to go until I became paranoid about the unguarded beaches and refused to ever go there again after the summer when 6 or 8 people drowned in one month. The extended family has implied that I am overly worried about drowning, but you and I know that I am right. I have told Josh that I will consent to a house at an unguarded beach, but I reserve the right to say, "I told you so" if anyone drowns. Unless I am the one who drowns, in which case I am missing the best "I told you so" ever.
So, if any of you guys have a good line on an Outer Banks beach house that allows pets, let me know.