HM Runs Hot And Cold

The injury to my belbow comes and goes. It was better after about 5 days, but then I carried in a bag of ice and my purse and a box of canned goods with that arm. In retrospect, that was not a scathingly brilliant idea. Now it aches again, and that hand swells a bit and gets cold. I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to happen. The ache feels like the time when I worked in a junk store writing prices on items with a Sharpie. That time, I had pain in both hands and forearms so bad that it would wake me up at night, and I would have to immerse them in a bowl of ice water. Which was a different kind of pain. I'm thinking it was Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, but I was working on my Master's Degree at the time, while working in that junk store, and I didn't exactly have universal medical care. Which just goes to show you that education is hazardous to your health. It went away after I left that job. The pain, not the education. This pain originates in that elbow groove on the opposite side from my funny bone. If I hold my arm across my belly while pulling on the ring and little finger, the pain goes away. So that's what I do in my spare time.

I confess to a bit of a cooking faux pas this afternoon. No, I did not cook a frozen pizza on its cardboard circle. I was in the midst of throwing together another cauldron of chili (because that's what we eat here at the Mansion when the outside temperature is 97 degrees), and at the same time warming up a saucepan of soup left from a few days ago. I had both pots on the back burners, and had laid the plastic lid from a Hot and Sour Soup carryout container on the front burner. Hey, if it's good enough for their soup, it's good enough for mine. That's what I store my leftovers in. Don't cost nothin'. Don't have to go to a Tupperware party to get one. Anyhoo, I'm sure you can see where this story is going. I turned on the front burner by mistake when I put the soup on. The curling white smoke was my clue that something had gone horrible wrong. I blame HH, of course, because he had come into the kitchen to putter around in the midst of my cooking. OK, I admit that I called him into the kitchen. But I had to, because he had packed up drinks to take to the Cardinal's game, and had included juice boxes with an expiration date of Nov 2007. And he KNEW that was the expiration date. I can't wait to tell my mom what she hath wrought with her 4-year-old ranch dressing faux pas. But getting back to ME...I grabbed that plastic lid off the burner, and it looked like a pool of melted wax left behind. Alas, I had to toss my plastic lid, but there's plenty more where that one came from.

I turned on the Cardinals' game a little while ago, and I must say I do not envy HH and #1 and HH's #1 son and his little girl. They must be sweating their brains out. Well, everyone but HH, I suppose. I wonder if those players, who are paid a fortune to PLAY A FREAKIN' GAME for a living, sit and whine about it. You know, the ones who aren't starters, and get paid a fortune to SIT AND WATCH A FREAKIN' GAME for a living. As in, "Gosh darn it! It's not worth $18,518.52 to sit in this freakin' heat for 3 hours!" (You are welcome to check my math if you'd like. There are 162 games per season, and the average salary is now $3 million).

Taking a tour of all the channels Dish Network Top 150 has to offer, I ran across Live From Abbey Road with good ol' Missouri gal Sheryl Crow. Now I'm wondering if Abbey Road paid its utilities, because Sheryl was singing in a leather jacket, and the drummer was wearing a jacket, and the guitar players were in long sleeves, and the keyboard player had an arctic coat zipped up to his chin. All while they were playing! Surely they are not using that cut for her album. The sound of flapping zippers alone would drive you crazy. The only hot-blooded short-sleevers were her 2 back-up singers. Maybe they had bought new shirts for the show, and didn't want to cover them up. Vanity, thy name is Woman.

Thermally-challenged, your name is Hillbilly Mom.