Tuesday again

 

Nice morning out there. 63° and sunny, clear sky, 96% humidity. For early snack with my hot & black I'm having supper leftover from last evening: the rest of a PBJ, the other foldover. Being careful with the PBJ though, as I'm not wasting my grape jelly: the PB needed a bit more jelly, so instead of more grape jelly I mixed in a spoonful of the German raspberry jam from the Tyndall commissary. Works fine.

This is Skippy's super-chunk, our household standard. Good, but not my preference. To find my own peanut butter preference I pick up those with the word "natural" and then check the label, looking for "contents: peanuts." Or, "peanuts and salt." If the contents includes sugar or some weird kind of oil, I put it back on the shelf. I don't appreciate it if there's so much oil on top that when mixed the peanut butter is liquid. Publix used to have the perfect peanut butter, but evidently it wasn't a popular seller, as it's not been on the shelves for several years. So, I experiment.

But PBJ. It really doesn't matter when it's to be used for PBJ, though, as it's going to be sweet anyway. My growing up years, smooth peanut butter and grape jelly. Not until I was in my teens did I discover peanut butter on buttered bread, and salted. Oh, and peanut butter and cheddar cheese on bread. Peanut butter and orange marmalade on bread for a foldover.

Always with a tall glass of ice cold milk.

So, that was supper last evening: a PBJ foldover and a mug of cold milk. 

Sunday mornings, Linda cooks scrambled cheese eggs, a slice of pan-cooked tomato, and maybe either cooked mushrooms or a slice of bacon thin and crispy, other days we each make our own breakfast. Noonday dinner is usually about two o'clock, then we each make our own supper, for me usually a glass of ice water with the pills, sometimes as last evening, something basic. One supper I enjoy is coleslaw with either ranch dressing or Ken's Steak House Russian dressing, and maybe something meaty mixed in, chicken, tuna, shrimp. I don't like the same thing for breakfast every morning or supper every night, although I probably could eat breakfast at Golden Corral every day. Or maybe at Big Mama's on the Bayou, or Bayou Joe's. 

Why am I letting the dancing fingers do their thing this morning? Because I can put my brain in neutral, let the typing go on, and look out the window: right now, a US Navy diver-tender craft is slipping past 7H, heading for the open Gulf and a day of training for young sailors in the diving school. The humidity is so high that the atmosphere is hazy, not clear.

Last sip of hot & black from my magic mug, and Time to contemplate the rest of my Tuesday. 

RSF&PTL

T89&c

image: book cover, "LAMB," a book that Anthony MacWhinnie introduced me to in 2008 while we were working together at St Thomas by the Sea, that I've picked up to read again.