Week two/Menus 8Jun-14Jun

Week two of mac and cheese.

It's going to be A Long Summer.

Some flexibility in menus this week. AC's graduation is this weekend and I would have loved to have everyone over for an outside dinner, but the weather may be iffy, and with all the @#(%$%(!!!! boxes, the deck is not easy to access. But I'm not planning food for that day, in case we do end up doing something. I'm so very sad about how this is all happening, missing commencement, family that was sure to visit, have the dipshit bf still involved, the boxes all over my house... Anyhow. Menus.

We made pulled pork over the weekend because of chicken thighs. Trader Joe's has been consistently out, so I'd planned on getting the organic ones at Costco. Which Perry kindly picked up for me. Only when he got home, it appears two of the individual packages had had holes poked in them, and by the time we got everything cleaned up and returned to Costco, I was done with chicken. Pretty much anything can be too psychologically taxing these days. So. Pulled pork.

Monday: leftovers


Tuesday: mac and cheese from a @#$(#!!! box with left over pulled pork.


Wednesday: char siu, rice, baby broccoli (or whatever those weird looking broccoli-like stems are).


Thursday: Perry. He says something Italian.


Friday: spinach with polenta and a fried egg.


Saturday: left open, graduation for AC.


Sunday: potato, radish, and green bean salad with grilled chicken.

Perry may cook on Friday instead.

I need to write the next post, and I'm dreading it.

15 years.

My dad died 15 years ago today.

Hard to believe it's been that long, in some ways. In some ways, it seems like so much longer.

It's still so hard. I still miss him so much.

He's have just loved to see all his grandkids grow up. He never met my brother's kids. He would have been so proud of all of them. And, like the rest of us, completely enchanted by my youngest niece.

It just sucks.

And dear god, he would have hated Trump. And supported Black Lives Matter. I'm not going to say that he didn't see class or race, but he was one of those people who intrinsically respected others for who they were.

He wasn't a perfect father, few parents are, but he loved us, and always believed in us.