Turnovers, Tumblers and Too Much Beer

I’ll start with Too Much Beer. Last week I had a date with a guy who lives in Puerto Rico but comes to New England for on-site manager stuff regularly. We had been messaging for a while and finally managed to connect. My favorite part was that we chose a place ten minutes from my house. My other favorite part is that I no longer go out of my way to primp for dates anymore; presentable clothing, cute earrings, a bit of make-up, done. We’re gonna like each other or we’re not.

jug-of-beer

Fifteen minutes before the date started he texted me that he was at the bar. When I arrived, he was two-thirds of the way through a 32 oz jug of beer (I know this amount only because I just looked it up now).  He later told me he’d had a “regular sized” 12oz glass prior to this one.

By the end of the date, he drank two more jugs and finished the night with one more “smaller” beer. He did not seem inebriated at all.

Other ways in which he showed poor judgement include the fact that six years ago he purchased, sight unseen, a 30 foot sailboat. Ask me if he knew how to sail. Did he know how to sail when he bought a giant boat? No, he did not know how to sail. After buying the boat he and his friends brought enough beer to last a few days and some food for what his not-even-a-novice-yet mind thought would be a nine hour sailing trip. They lost their anchors shortly after leaving shore, and dragged the motor of the dinghy for quite a while before realizing that wasn’t normal and dragged it back in. There were lots of hitting of sandbars involved too. It was a good story (to not be a part of).

The morons returned hungry 36 hours later. At least they were alive. He did eventually get sailing certification, but lost the boat to Hurricane Maria last year. Did he insure the boat, I asked him?

You can guess the answer to that question (see above paragraphs about poor choices).

IMG_5281IMG_5290Now Tumblers. I finally decided to buy a composting tumbler. When I got around to taking out all the parts and laying them out on my patio table for assembly, I wondered how well it would go. The directions were limited and there were lots of mysterious looking parts. Then I got started and remembered how much I love assembling things and figuring out how they fit together. It took a little over an hour. My only frustration was that my fully charged drill died after 45 minutes. It’s a wimpy drill, I think. Now I have a composting bin!

Turnovers. Last weekend, L and I went to Brooksby Farm and did some apple picking. This weekend she came over to my house for the first time. She’s been asking to meet Harlow for quite a while now so it was a big deal. After their introduction which was wiggly but friendly, I gave L a tour of my home and she really liked it.  “I don’t know why but I want to live here all the time!” she said. I know right? My house is PURPLE! Who wouldn’t want to live here? I assured her she’s welcome at any time.

Harlow and L got along swimmingly, although I think Harlow was a bit nonplussed about all the attention. She seemed to ignore L much of the time while L followed her around, patting her and keeping her company while Harlow did her rounds of the yard smells.

We used the apples we picked last weekend to make turnovers. I made the dough a few days ago so it was chilled and ready, and in the end it was excellent crust! L thought the cinnamon was too strong in the finished product, and I was disappointed that the apples broke down completely. They were basically turnovers with apple sauce in them which does little for me. For lunch I made some sharp cheddar cheese and apple grilled cheeses and she loved those. For an eight year old she’s a pretty adventurous eater!

 

 

 

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