The oddest part of seeing all the wind power fields and massive turbines was hearing Rocinante whinnying in the back of my mind, along with the rattle of the Golden Helmet of Mambrino as it clacked against my lance in the back seat.
I mentioned that driving cross country introduces the kids to part of our American heritage, and that’s true, except for Zanesville, OH. There are no redeeming qualities to Zanesville, OH. It’s like Binghamton, NY, except in the Midwest and without the college. I just wanted to make sure that was recorded somewhere, for posterity.
The weekend started the way a good weekend should start, which is to say on a Wednesday.
Why she should feel the need to whisper anything while we were alone in her room with the rest of the house awake, I couldn’t guess – but then, you don’t argue with those who rule by divine right, and so I dutifully leaned down so the cute, blond, 8-yr-old Reigning Queen of Pink could whisper in my ear: “Sweet titty-fuckin’ Jesus, I’m tired!”
The French Onion Soup was a study in hiring disaffected youth in the kitchen. First, this was French Garlic Soup – the onions were an afterthought.