I waited too long for this post, my tardiness is inexcusable. This quick, abrupt and brutal scrabble of a post will do no justice to the chronicles of the Haupertonian Manor's inhabitants. But alas, I cannot allow this lacunae of posting to continue or it may go on for weeks. I can be negligent that way. So, on Friday, we enjoyed the Killer Dodge Ball of Dooom after TSD practice ... except Jake who got a time-out for failing to heed instruction. He got to play the second game, but was promptly nailed within minutes of the game starting. Hard for him, hard for me. I know he enjoys the game so much ... he'll get more opportunities. Then on Saturday, I goof off. Pick up some dog dip, tinker about the Manor, but nothing of consequence other than restocking the wood brackets and doing the week's laundry. I felt a bit empty though. The lack of accomplishment was like a detox session to me. The laundry was a quick hit at the methadone clinic. Not the same, you know. I had a second chance at happiness on Sunday though. We did sunday school and ALL the children arrived and attended. The Tyrants and I went shopping where I happened upon the weekly 'Meat Bonanza' where the butcher slashes
prices on the various cuts because their impending expiration date will cause them to mutate into some horrible zombie heard animal. I can see the slices of tenderloin slapping their way down the street now. Limpets of liver writhing about my feet. Vicious without caramelized onions, you know. Shaking off that peculiar visage ... we bought a few bricks of cheese and then some flowers for the Mrs. And, ran into her at the checkout. She was astounded at the damage one hungry pack of Khans can do with a credit card. Nearly $200 dollars in milk, meat and associated products ... donuts. So, we quickly paid the cashier and escaped her momentarily stunned countenance before she could react. Bwa-ha-ha! Chicken tonight!
Later on, I took down the miles of exterior lighting and started removing the ornaments from the decrepit Christmas Tree that had not been watered all week. I hauled it off to the Christmas tree graveyard where all of our trees go to decompose., scratching at the ground and whimpering the whole way. Then, after the long journey back, the Mrs asked me if I had found that last decoration on the tree. Urgh. No, so we back track to the graveyard, inspecting the ground the entire way and appearing to be some sort of cross between human and flamingo. Bent half over, scanning back and forth, searching for a little green tree amongst the grass and leaves. We turn the particularly hostile tree over and over to see if it was still in the branches. No luck. We surrender it to the tides of time and turn to return back to the Portcullis (we expected the Tyrants to have set fire to the living room by now) and out of the corner of my eye, I spot it on the lowest branch of the tree. What fortune! I must have saved 100 orphans from killer monkey-dog attack beasts in a previous life and this was my karmic return. To boost my karma account tally, I spend the afternoon practicing the staff form with the Tyrants and playing kiddy soccer with Joyous Jake in the Cybernetic hounds. He ran his fool head off till he was completely drained of energy, but not of will to continue chasing that damned ball. The rest of the day was spent in the kitchen, cooking up the chicken in a nice provincial herb oven roast recipe in my big cast iron skillet and vac-packing the rest of the meat for its final destination, the Near Zero Deep Freeze. I should name it, the freezer. Little Alaska? Sounds about right.
Labels: Banalities, Children, Chores, Church, Dodge Ball, Family, Meat, Mundane, Slacker, Sunday School, Tang So Doo, Weekend