Nice Little Weekend

Sheila is in the middle of her "crazy season" at TU. When she left full time employment there, she kept her "side jobs" managing a website for an oil patch research consortium and doing the administrative and clerical work for their conference that is held every year about this time.  She also continued doing specialized (and highly skilled) work for a professor who became a family friend ver the years.  Recently, she has been editing the equations for an engineering text he is writing.  In short, she has been working crazy hours.  

She decided to take half a day vacation Friday to get caught up at TU.  I told her I would take her to a "special lunch" before she plowed into the mess at TU.  I know she likes chicken friend steak and I know she likes country music. Every Friday, a group of very talented older musicians serenades the crowd at Nelsons on Memorial, the home of the best chicken fry on the planet.  It was good.  Very, very good. The music and the food.  Sheila had the chicken fried steak.  I had the chicken fried chicken filet.  We both swore we might never eat again.


Saturday morning was the Susan G. Kohman Race for the Cure. Sheila goes every year.  Her older sister Gwenda and her niece Pam are both breast cancer survivors as well.  So, the three of them went and took a whole mess of the family with them.  It sounded like they had a good time.

Sheila got home right about lunch time and we headed out to Catoosa to check out a new gun shop that had a heck of a deal on Crimson Trace laser sights for Glock pistols.  I wound up buying one and I'll be darned if it wasn't perfectly zeroed right around 50 feet right from the factory.  When you point the pistol at a target, you see a perfect little red dot superimposed right square in the middle of a properly aligned front sight picture.  I had avoided buying a laser sight until I had proven to myself that I could shoot without one.  But, now that that is proven, the laser sight offers an amazing tactical advantage under certain circumstances.

Having walked around all morning, Sheila was hungry.  I know that she likes sushi but I am just too cheap to buy it very often at a regular sushi restaurant where the check can look like one of my legal bills if you eat very much at all.  But, there are a couple of Chinese restaurants that serve good sushi as part of their buffet in the area.  The best is Asiana in Claremore. Since we were already in Catoosa, we headed that way for lunch.  Lunch as amazing as usual, especially for a buffet, and we got our sushi fix in for a while.

On the way home, we stopped for a few groceries at the strange little Walmart in Catoosa.  It is kind of a mini super center.  Very clean and new and I have to say that the staff had great attitudes and were far more helpful than you have a right to expect in a discount store.  The greeter actually followed me to my car, helped me put the groceries in the trunk and then took the handicapped scooter back for me.


By this time we were both ready for a nap and that's exactly what we did.  When we got up, I fixed us a batch of one of our favorite dishes, "choo-choo fried rice."  It is a dish that used to be served on trains in China.  It is bacon, green onions and dry scrambled eggs stir fried with rice.  We served it with chicken tenders cooked with Thai chili sauce.  It was a very nice little at home meal.

After dinner, we settled down before the TV. Netflix has just acquired the rights to the rest of the BBC's long running "Midsomer Murder" series.  Midsomer is hard to explain.  The plots are very British and totally ridiculous.  The little town of Midsomer, which is any tourists dream come true, seems to have two or three gruesome murders every time a new episode is scheduled.

If you believed TV, Midsomer, population fifty thousand or so, would have a murder rate that would put Detroit, Chicago and LA combined all to shame.  And, oh what murders! There is seldom a gun seen but they stab, burn, poison, run over and do everything else imaginable to dispatch each other. The cops never carry a gun and, of course, regularly get the crap beaten out of them by resisting suspects.  But to balance that out, since Britain has no equivalent to the Fourth Amendment, British cops apparently break and enter into just about anybody's home they choose.  If the door isn't locked they just walk in and announce themselves (sometimes).  If the door is locked, they just break in. Every time they do that bit, I subconsciously cringe and wait to hear the gunshot that would automatically follow in America.  And of course, the chief inspector has a drop dead gorgeous wife and a terminally cute Jack Russell terrier that he talks to when is trying to work something out.  The plots are so ridiculous and the premise so unlikely that it is all kind of fun. Sheila and I have watched every one of the thirteen past seasons and are working our way through the last few now.

Not a bad little weekend so far.  I suspect that we will be in for the day today unless something comes up.