Without going into too much detail of the hows, whys, and whens of suddenly being empty nesters (saw it coming but not that fast), I am comfortable enough to share with all of you, Gentle Readers, that I went grocery shopping Sunday afternoon and had a pickle of a time. The last time I went to the grocery store to shop for just the two of us — no expectations of anyone else coming into the house to partake of any groceries or various sundries — we were 27 and 24. The Husband could eat wheat products (well, it turns out he really couldn’t… we just didn’t know for another 14 years). We ate grown-up food exactly as we liked. We bought household items appropriate for grown-ups. We bought beer. A lot of beer. Continue reading
It’s time I started writing for this blog, and no better time than tonight. This thing has been live for months now with nary a post… barking at me, hounding me…
I started this as a creative outlet as I transition to my next phase in life: Empty Nest Syndrome Survivor
I have been joking that I am really looking forward to suffering Empty Nest Syndrome. In fact, I want to be the poster child for Empty Nest Syndrome. But I haven’t really had much to write on this blog yet because the nest is still full for now (when he does finally move out, it will require a blowtorch to clear out the basement and remodel for the pool table and wet bar I have in mind). But tonight… tonight I had my first full taste of what is to come. Continue reading
Look what I made for myself tonight to celebrate rebooting the blog! English Toffee Ice Cream Soda with Knob Creek Bourbon. Yummy!
We did something really crazy tonight, something that I have the feeling a lot of people our age don’t do any more. We walked into the basement of a complete stranger for a Mardi Gras-themed Blues jam house party, armed with two bottles of wine and a giant platter of olives and homemade hummus. How? Why? What? Huh?
So here’s the background story:
We are one of those crazy couples that tailgates in the north parking lot of Husky Stadium before every UW football game. In fact, I often go just for the tailgating and begrudgingly drag my drunk rear into the stadium for the games, though our seats have much improved with the stadium remodel and we no longer have to hike Mount Kilimanjaro to reach our seats. Our seats were so high, we would get wind blowing on us from the crack where the wall almost meets the roof; our seats were so high, our row was “vv” — or what I called “sloppy nosebleed W.” Now our seats are comfy and there’s a bar in our section. Whoops, I digress… Continue reading