This is the one...

...where I tell you about my funny surgery story. I had an outpatient procedure yesterday, and it all went well, thank you. I still feel hungover from it, but I do feel a nap in my future. But let's get to the funny. So I'm in the surgery center, and while I'm not in the first round (read: 6am), I'm in the second round of surgeries. So patients are leaving, patients are coming, doctors and nurses are mulling about. Before they bring the Husband in, I'm noticing a few young doctors in the area. We're at a teaching hospital, so I'm pretty sure they are interns or residents. I notice one in particular. A tall, tanned, toned, young male doctor. Perhaps even younger than me. (gasp!) The Husband comes back, where we sit for an hour. And another hour. And wait. The nature of my visit requires a specific table, and the first surgery was running late. In the mean time the anesthesiologist, with his sidekick my hot doctor come to discuss knocking me out. The Husband is giggling as he walks away, knowing I was blushing. My surgery happens, I recover, and the Husband returns to retrieve me. We're waiting on discharge, and the young doc comes over to visit. He asks how I'm doing, I say I'm as fine as I can be in recovery. He asks if anyone told me about my rash? Umm, no... He says, "you got a rash across your stomach during the surgery, likely from the anesthesia, but it went away. If it comes back or anything, just call your doctor. Feel better!" and he's off. The Husband's first words to me? "HA! He saw you naked!" Sometimes, he's just so rotten.

Why I am in charge of the "stuff" around here...

For the past two weeks, the Husband has been working on a trailer. We got it free, but it needed some work. Specifically new lights and wiring. But with our crappy weather, he's only been able to work on it in spurts. Saturday, it was a nice day out, so he decided it was time to wrap it up. He gathers all his tools from the nether regions of the house, takes them outside and spreads them out. Now, he's looking for his two containers of connectors, wiring parts, and such. Can't find them. He stomps all over the house. I am working at the computer (I swear, it really was work), and he stops to ask me a handful of times whether I have seen these containers and if I have touched them. Each time, I say no. I ask if he's looked in a few specific places—you know, where they SHOULD be. Of course, answer is no. He's convinced it has been stolen, either from our driveway or from the back deck (lest I remind him, these containers belong in neither of these places). Stranger things have happened, but I can't help but recall Bill Cosby's stand-up routine where he's convinced someone "Came in my house and done stole my remote!" The Husband huffs and puffs and has now declared that he must make another trip to Lowe's because not only is he now out of electrical tape, but one of the side-marker lights was in there. Off he goes. An hour later, I am called to the driveway to help test lights. Yay, they work! Fast forward to this evening. Husband is getting home from work, gathering all his uniforms, as new ones are being issued tomorrow. If you haven't guessed yet, the Husband is the messy one around here. He sheds clothing and tends to leave it. This makes me want to burn his clothing and yell and scream and stomp my feet. But if I did that, the Daughter's behavior would be blamed on me, and I can't be having any of that. Anywho, he is collecting shirts out of his truck. And finds the containers INSIDE his truck. Under a pile of clothing. His words to me? "Well, if you drove my truck more often, it wouldn't be so messy. I wouldn't have lost them." I can't stand driving his truck because it looks like he's homeless. Which is also precisely why I hate him driving my car—he always leaves remnants of his day behind. This is why I remain "Keeper of all things."

I won!

It was like Christmas at my mailbox today! Well, actually, I didn't check the mail, it was on the table. But whatever. A week or so ago, I entered a contest over on SimplySweeter and I won this fabulous cupcake cookbook! Yay! I can't wait to try some out. A quick six-degrees-of-separation: I found Anne's blog through a search for Ovations for the Cure, a non-profit you should be supporting. I thought the cakes she does are great, and her writing is hysterical, so I stuck around. Come to find out, the company I work for designed the website for David Paul Salons, where she works outside of the kitchen. How funny, right? Here's where I divulge strange information. I actually don't own that many cookbooks. Crazy, right? I am a book designer, but I just don't buy cookbooks. Truth be told, over the past year, I have been given five cookbooks—and I don't know that I would have ever bought them on my own. Why? Well, let me tell you. And have your wine ready, my stories aren't like Cliff Notes. I have one cookbook that I refer to. It's the Joy of Cooking. I'm on my second copy, as my first copy was chewed on by my dog when he was a puppy and then the spine fell apart over the years. It was my first cookbook, I bought it when I first moved out of my parents' house. I love it, because it tells you the basics. How to buy potatoes and then bake them. How to filet a fish. How to purchase produce. How to make a Hollandaise sauce. How to assemble a dinner party table. Everything. Now, I don't usually follow recipes, but it's a great guide, and helped me back when I had no idea where to start and what to do. I bought it for a few friends who were struggling with the "I just moved out, now what do I eat?" delimma. And I bought one for a friend who has lived on his own for more than 18 years and couldn't cook much more than rice. (I wasn't being mean, he met a girl and wanted to know where to start to be able to cook for her.) A friend actually said hers is riddled with notes about the recipes, and I gasped because I didn't think I could bring myself to write in a book. I replaced my copy two years ago and made myself write my notes in there. It's hard for me to do it, but just the other week, I made my first note in pen (it was on the pancake recipe, which I think is too thin and boring). However, I realize I am like my mother—I live with my recipe box. My mother never had a cookbook. And she cooks All. The. Time. My mother will clip recipes and put them in her box. She still has the Nestle Toll House wrapper from the semi-sweet morsels in her box from the first time she made them. And she pulls it out every time she makes a batch. Her box isn't organized, but these clips being on all sorts of papers is how she knows what to look for. I got her a new box a few years back, but I think she still has her red plastic one somewhere. So, back to my story. I use one cookbook. I actually have the Gourmet Magazine's cookbook, but I hate it. It's not written for the everyday cook. But I keep it because I think it's designed beautifully. And, it stands opposite Joy to hold up all my copies of Everyday Food, where most of my other recipes come from. This year, I was given I'm Just Here for the Food by Alton Brown, whom I love; and Cookwise, an informative cookbook that I don't use, namely because I like Joy better. But they are books and I can't give them away. Perhaps when I have more than two readers I will do a giveaway. Because I am not even sure those two readers will read anytime soon. Wait, I lied. I do use another cookbook. The Donvier Ice Cream Cookbook. Most of the time, I wing it. But, the company I freelance for is the publisher. So a few years ago, when I was in the office, we did a reprint, and the manager ordered enough books for everyone in the office to have one. But again, I don't think I would buy it. I'd rather wing it. How do you cook? What books do you use?

The Wonder Drug...

Okay, not exactly a drug, but it could be. In our house, I use a lot of distilled vinegar. By a lot, I mean I go through a gallon roughly every two months. But there's a million uses for it. I have been using it in my laundry for over a year, and it does well with dingies, but also acts as a fabric softener/static repellent. But, I do this religiously since I also make my own detergent. I also use vinegar to clean my tile floors. At one time, I did wonder as to whether it actually gets them clean, but then I tried it. It does. I've used it to clean windows for years, actually with a coffee filter (no streaks, no shredding). I clean my coffee pot with it as well. But, while I was avoiding doing some work, I was over on the Pioneer Woman's blog. And I totally forgot about her use--washing her hair! She, like many small-town people—us included—has hard water. And she washed her hair and it worked wonders. So I tried it tonight. I can't believe how my hair feels! It's like I deep conditioned it, but I only used the vinegar. Okay, well it had been over 36 hours since I showered (don't judge), so I did wash my hair first. But I didn't condition. I can't wait to see my hair when it dries, I hope it's back to shiny! I can't use the hairdryer, because the whole house is sleeping. The Husband was laughing at me because I keep playing with my hair. Scared yet? Just you wait, I am full of useless knowledge. Like how vegetable oil can get sliver splinters out. And.. never mind. So go, take your shower with vinegar!