Monday, January 2, 2012
A Blank Page - Now What To Write...
We have a few pets - two dogs, a cockatiel and two chickens. They are a little bit of work (especially now that Nelson has hip problems which subsequently cause him toilet problems and he occasionally leaves us little gifts around the house) but they can also have some side benefits. Apart from the unconditional love that they provide and the companionship while exercising (before Nellie's hips went), they can be might good waste disposal systems and pre-wash rinses.
I've recently found out, though, that Iven is having some problems with me giving all the scraps to the pets. He was brought up in the 'waste not, want not' era where throwing away anything was pretty close to a mortal sin. Mouldy bread? No problems, just cut out the mould. Hard, dessicated cheese? Tastes better when it's rubbery. Weevils in the rolled oats? They're good protein.
I, however, was brought up studying science and food technology. I learnt all about the perils of mould and food poisoning and the importance of freshness for nutritional value. I still firmly believe that if a carrot is so soft that you can wrap it round your wrist, it probably doesn't have much in the way of vitamins and minerals left in it.
I've got a fairly firm rule as far as left-overs are concerned and it's, quite frankly a compromise to Iven's upbringing. I allow them to be consumed for up to seven days and then the chickens or dogs get them. Yes, I know that this is longer than recommended BUT the scientists who made the recommendations never lived with my husband.
On Christmas Eve Iven and I had our weekly takeaway meal of fish and chips and the store owners, wanting to reduce their stock, gave Iven two tubs of potato salad. Now it doesn't matter that our fridge was full and we would be eating Christmas left-overs for at least a week, but Iven couldn't resist free food. I had to totally rearrange the fridge to cram them in. After a week there was still a full tub left so I gave it to the chickens.
"Where's that potato salad?" asked Iven the next day.
You should have seen his face when I told them that the hens had feasted on it. Horror, disappointment, a little hatred all flashed up in front of me. And at that moment I knew exactly what I would be putting on his headstone.
I TOLD YOU NOT TO EAT IT!!
In searching for a suitable pic for this blog I came across another that I loved and really wanted to share.
I know that I've made a huge presumption that I will be last to go and therefore will have all the poetic license that I need. But I am 10 years younger, a woman and I try to look after myself. So statistically I should outlive Iven but on the off-chance that I go first I've taken the liberty to compose my own headstone.
Beloved wife, mother and awesome cupcake baker
In fact - so multi-talented, it makes you sick
I TOLD YOU THAT ALL THAT EXERCISE WOULD KILL YOU!
And speaking of exercise (don't you love the subtle segue?!) - the new year has started really well. So far this week - one strength session plus stretching, a 15k run (I didn't have my program yet - who knew Coach Chris would only give me 10), a speed session (6 X 800 and 1 X 200 just for fun) followed by 50 mins of yoga and a stretching session. And I'm feeling great!!
What would you like on your headstone?
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LOL! I have no idea what to put on my headstone, but I don't think I will get one, as I told the boys just to have me cremated and then they can sprinkle me in the garden for fertilizer!ReplyDelete
Oh Charmaine you made me laugh so hard, Ivan sounds exactly like my Dad!!! 'Waste not want not' was uttered multiple times per day in our house and nothing was disposed of via the bin...Dad (who I might add is also skinny like Ivan!) eats everything!!!ReplyDelete
My headstone...hmmmm....'She's finally stopped talking' :-)
My headstone : did you know he ran ComradesReplyDelete
Ah Anonymous - you're giving yourself away.ReplyDelete
Love your epitath! I really would need to think on all that to come up with something.ReplyDelete
Iven sounds much like my husband when it comes to clearing things from the fridge. We can always say "I told you so," when the keel over from food poisoning!
Love the headstone, absolutely perfect! My husband is the opposite of Iven, he won't touch anything that has been in the refrigerator for more than 24-48 hours. His Dad on the other hand, used to save the tiniest bits of food to eat later. Maybe that is why Rick went extremely the other way...ReplyDelete
I always thought chickens were souless and couldn't love ... what a judgemental view on my part. And that is GREAT headstone!!!ReplyDelete
To answer your question - yes, I think my tendinitis is partly caused by excessive heel-striking, but also a little overstriding.
Have a great week!
Very funny. Who knew planning what will go on your gravestone could be so entertaining?ReplyDelete
No headstone, please! Sorta like Ivan with the waste - so I don't want to waste land space. My neighbors tell me I'm crazy with all the running I do - but, I hope I'm remembered as being only Half-Crazed! ;DReplyDelete
headstone? oh jeez...I have no idea. If I ever manage to BQ (I have aways and aways to go on that one) I suppose that can go on thereReplyDelete
But, but giving (old) food to the animals is not wasting, is it?ReplyDelete
I do not want a headstone. My wish is to be buried as I am possibly without a casket (I would agree to a cardboard one) in soil, no grave, and have a tree planted over me. Any tree would do.
I'm hoping my demise will be so far from now, who will know what I'm up to?ReplyDelete
I do love the "I told you not to eat it' part!
No head stone needed, just give my old body to science and burn the rest... Then toss the asses off the mountain...ReplyDelete
Starting the new year with a post about headstone is perfect :) Maybe we could have a virtual headstone :) considering that our relationship is through a virtual world.ReplyDelete
Great workout, Char!
My husband is the same way! I have to sneakily throw out leftovers our food that has gone off. I have even caught him eating from the green bin (composter). YEUCK!ReplyDelete
Too funny. My husband is totally oblivious. He assumes that if I haven't thrown it out, it's safe, so I have to stay on top of things LOL.ReplyDelete
And I'm sure my headstone will have something about beer. ;o)
Such a funny topic. Only you Char. Love it! Your comment just now made me laugh out loud. So funny and so something I would do. Small talk with someone's hand up my hoo hoo. ha ha. My headstone....hmmm...I'd have to think on this one.ReplyDelete
On my headstone? Sorry but this is part of the Black Knight's story: "Don't piss off the Black Knight"!ReplyDelete