Special Dispensation

Being that I no longer live in the northeast, such things as Fish on Fridays during Lent is no longer part of my awareness. So this bit of news caught my attention: Corned Beef and Catholics. I'm sure without this special exception that some may have short circuited like those androids on a couple of Star Trek episodes when Captain Kirk managed to put them into a logic loop that fried their robotic brains. This is why I'll never fit in well with religions: I wouldn't need a bishop, pope, or other cleric give me special permission to eat meat or other dietary no-no's, ok's, or maybe not's. Hopefully I'm not coming across as disrespectful toward those who do follow dietary guides via an organized religion. My intent is to acknowledge that I couldn't follow the rules. If you can manage to follow them, more power to you, because it does take self-discinpline, self-denial, determination, and believing in that you are doing.

These are the Lucky Charms pants I am wearing today. It's the only green clothing I own. A little personal trivia. Though Pooky comes from mostly Irish heritage, he didn't have a family recipe for corned beef and cabbage. His grandfather's Irish stew was what he had, but not the traditional CB&C. What is funny is the recipe I use was one that I learned from my previous SO who hadn't a drop of Irish blood in his body (his heritage was eastern European). This year I'm making it in the crock pot (see above) because I want to see if it cooks the vegetables less harshly than the stove top method. For accompaniment I thought of making Irish soda bread but then discovered a box of sour dough bread for the breadmachine. Thus, I'm letting the appliances do all of the work. (Tee-hee)

I discovered Mr. Patty O'Doo shedding his fur on the burgundy winged back chair. He twisted himself into a very peculiar yoga position, I think it is called the praying mantis or devotional rabbit.

He is actually upside down. I didn't distort the perspective. He is pressed against the back of the chair. Odd little monkey that his is, I'm sure he got better reception that way from the Mother Ship. I'm sure he telepathically communicates with space aliens.

I should have dyed his morning tuna green. There is still time for me to color up a can of Bumblebee. That would be rather weird looking—green tuna! Well, if it can be done to beer....