I have had the worst writer's block with this blog, but then I read this great post by Ursula Le Guin, and I decided, screw it, I'll write about nothing.
Yesterday, my husband, Chris, turned 31.
We were still up when his official birthday rolled around at 12:07 am, so we celebrated by eating an apple grunt. It's biscuits and fruit, cooked first on the stovetop, and then transferred to the oven. I spiced the apples with half a teaspoon of ground ginger, a generous grating of fresh nutmeg, and a huge amount of cinnamon. We're big cinnamon people around here; it's about the only spice in our cabinet that is absolutely guaranteed to be totally fresh, since we go through it so fast. But back to the grunt... the biscuits are soft and fluffy and biscuit-y, but the absolute best part is that they soak up the apple juice and every spoonful is apple with biscuit that's soaked with just a tad of sweet, spicy juice.
After we had consumed a decent portion of the grunt, we went upstairs to sleep. I grabbed Zoe out of her nest on the bed and danced her around singing Happy Birthday. She was so sleepy that she didn't even mind, which was the best part. =) No clawing for me!
Later that day, after we had both slept and rapidly cleaned part of the house, our families came over. First, my younger brother, who proceeded to claim the couch and watch a movie about Denzel Washington smuggling heroin from Vietnam in corpses. Then, Chris' parents and younger brother showed up, bringing a giant lasagna for dinner and my mother-in-law's trademark carrot cake. Finally, my parents rolled in, bearing two loaves of frozen garlic bread, soda, ice cream, chips, pretzels, and three kinds of dip.
My dad made a beeline for Chris' dad, where they instantly proceeded to bond over my dad's Reader's Digest Complete Home Repair Manual, and a tricky electric circuit problem my dad was having with their family room lights. Chris' brother watched TV with my brother, while the rest of us chowed down on the snacks that had been brought. I managed to make a bottle of ginger ale explode all over myself and the rest of the dining room table. The lasagna that my mother-in-law had made was so large that it took more than two hours to heat through... so I managed to coerce my entire family into watching ice skating that I had DVR-ed! This was a major coup, as I can barely get Chris to sit and watch with me, and we're just at the beginning of the Grand Prix Season.
And then we ate lasagna and carrot cake. We talked about random stuff, like the guy who invented the dividers for bathroom stalls and the bureaucratization of the samurai. Chris got presents: a new wallet from me, a check from my parents and brother, and the new Metroid game from his family. Zoe continued her work on braveness, managing to hang out on the stairs for most of the evening. She even ventured to her food dish once or twice, which takes real bravery, as it means getting off the stairs.
And that was my day yesterday. To me, it was fun, but essentially, boring to blog about. I feel like all my days are boring lately; that I lack blogging stimulation, sometimes. That without publishing to talk about, I'm not really sure I have a ton to say on a daily, weekly, or even monthly basis. I go to school; I go to physical therapy; I read books and play with my cat. I play a lot of video games. I've clocked something like 120 hours on Recettear now, trying to get all the parts to fuse the final weapons and armor. I watch anime and ice skating and try to eke out the occasional post for Tor.com. I would retire the blog, but that feels wrong, because who knows when I'll want to really write next? I'm not witty nor funny nor truly able to make everyday fascinating and exciting; I write fiction to be able to do that.
So I guess this is my way of apologizing, yet again, for the lack of content. *sigh* One day, I'll figure out again why I have a blog.