Saturday Night Steak Dinner

For as long as Jim and I have been married, we have had "Friday" or "Saturday" Night Steak Dinner.  It's a tradition (from my family of drunks.)  When we first got married in the early 80's, steaks were on Friday night to coincide with the watching of "Dallas."  Oh yes, we Houston suburbanites gathered round the dinner table with friends for the weekly watching of JR, Sue Ellen, Bobby, etc.  The fare was always ribeyes or strips (Texas style on the grill no matter the season.)  Accompanied with baked potato and salad, Texas toast and you had yourself one fine dinner. 

We lived in a condo in Houston back then.  Fran and Don Holm, our friends, often had dinner with us or vice versa.  They were a great couple, older than we were by a few years.  She was from French Quebec (hilarious woman) and he from Oklahoma, I think.  She's the one who taught me how to cook lobster:  "you just dunk their little heads in boiling water to kill them quickly and then salute as they slide the rest of the way in the boiling pot - don't feel bad, really, they forget who you are immediately!"

That was back when the Trivial Pursuit Game craze was popular.  Jim and Don took the game seriously but Fran and I loved to laugh and could care less about history or geography. I remember one night Fran's cousin, Edward, was playing with us.   She and I were asked a question by "serious" Don and Jim about one of the oceans.  We had no idea what the answer was so Edward put his patting palm in front of his mouth and whispered, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh"  Fran jumped up and screamed, "Indian Ocean!"  Don threw the card down and screamed, "I quit!"  We have all moved away from Houston now (20 years) and have since learned that not only did they divorce, but she passed away quite a few years ago.  God bless you Fran.

I digress...just a small trip down memory lane.  Clif, our son, was born in 1987.  And after some years, Friday night steak dinner became Saturday night steak dinner.  Why you ask?  Clif, high school, football.  Friday night lights.  Jim never missed one of his games from the time Clif was a freshman to the time he was a senior in high school in 2005.  And I only missed a couple of those games.  Sometimes I didn't do Ringgold, LA (seriously, look it up on the map.)

Now that Clif has graduated and is in Houston, we keep Saturday night for steaks (in coincides with 'Cops' my favorite.)  Last Saturday night was no different, except we "fancy" it up now with grilled asparagus instead of salad and miniature golden yukons in tarragon butter instead of baked potatoes.  29 years of marriage conversation - arguing political fare and tsk, tsking at LSU's player woes excepted, it was a pretty good dinner.

Oh yeah, we have a new garbage disposal:

An Open Letter to Joe Alleva and Les Miles

Gentlemen:

I can't tell you how anxious my husband and I have been about LSU's opening season football game in Dallas against Oregon.  My husband, Jim, the RABID FAN, has been studying all summer the mountain of statistics from last season's SEC games.  We had our hat in the ring for tickets to the Dallas game from the git go and also our hotel reservations.  We have been season ticket holders for eleven years.  We scrimp and save every year even though ticket prices have skyrocketed.  Our seats are basically four rows from the top of the stadium.  Prime seating.

My husband and my son have attended all post season games, driven from our home in North Louisiana to Atlanta and Arizona and Florida and everywhere in between.  Both my husband and my son graduated from LSU in Baton Rouge.  In a nutshell, we have spent lots and lots of money on LSU.

SO WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED LAST WEEK?

If we can prepare for the season opener by scrimping, saving and preparing, why can't the damn football team do their part?

Why was half the team allowed to break curfew?

Why were they all gathered in a parking lot of a bar like a bunch of thugs at 2 o'clock Friday morning?  My momma always said nothing good goes on after midnight on the streets.

Why was the leader of the team not setting an example by refusing to go no matter what was going on?

Why was the leader of the team involved in a classless brawl in which he allegedly kicked a man in the head?

Why do the members of the team get four extra days to get their stories together?

What happens when they get a slap on the hand by police and then by you two if they are indeed guilty of any charges?

When do the fans get to be number one?

Oh yeah, what happens when college football implodes and that fine stadium sits empty and neither one of you have a job?

Thank you for your time...

Susan

Come on September

Shreveport now has gone 44 days straight with 100+ degree weather.   As I sit here in the house typing with the air conditioning cranked down and the hurricane fan we usually use outside the RV on camping trips cranked high, I'm wondering how the world got to this...this, this extreme edge of the cliff in EVERYTHING.  The average rainfall in Shreveport is 52 inches a year.  We have had 17 inches so far this year.  Yikes.

I used to dread hurricane season when I lived in Houston in my youth.  September was stay-inside-all-the-time-month because it rained and rained.  I was a wee lass when Hurricane Carla came through in 1961.  I believe it was a Category 5 storm.  We had a fairly new home at the time.  The main thing I remembered was the wind and rain falling so hard we had to put towels around the window sills all around the house because it was either a poorly built house or the wind and rain were pretty fierce.  And we had to change them out every hour on the hour.  We all gathered in the den (our family of 5) and we'd take turns wringing out towels for the next go-round.  In between, we played Barbie's by candlelight.  Except for dad.  He wasn't much into that.  Hell, what I wouldn't give for a good old fashioned Category 5 now up here in Shreveport.

They could even name it after me, I wouldn't care....you remember all the women revolted because hurricanes were named after females.  Well let me step up to the box.  Coach put me in.  Hello, Hurricane Susan.  We'll take any kind of rain now, go ahead put some wind with it.  I may have to follow the ants underground.

I just finished taking Mr. G to Logansport for lunch with an old friend and it is 108 degrees in Logansport this afternoon.  Can you say suffocating.  45% humidity.

God please turn on the sprinklers...

Stupid Cat

This is a very STRONG GRAPHIC LANGUAGE video but once you get past the first twenty seconds, this guy has a great message.  And it's quite funny....cats...and dogs have no frame of reference for anything.



I watch my dog Scout run crazy every afternoon when I get home from work and I'm playing with him.  There's no brain in that tiny head.  Random thoughts are the norm in his life...smell this, lick this, eat this, bite this, fling myself.  He sleeps in his kennel in the kitchen and cries pitifully (I myself would hold a grudge if I were him) every night when I put him to bed, yet every morning it's like he hasn't seen me forever!  Hi! Hi! I love you!  You're great!" Jump!  Jump!  This animal eats dirt and pine cones.  He throws himself against cabinets when, "Oh my god, you're going to feed me dry kibble...how Wonderful!"  Super!  Jump! Bark! Jump! Bang!

So why you say do I show the next video? 

Case closed.

I'm Back, Here I am, Here, Right Here; Present; On Deck

I could tell  you why I was away for so long but I won't let the people who scared me away win!!  This is MY PAGE.  I AM NOT A DOUBLE AGENT.  So there you, you, you sheister people persons who have money on your side.

Why thank you I've been mostly well since I've been gone.  Very hot summer.  A veritable drought, don't you know.


Two wonderful things have happened in my life since we last talked.

1.  Cue the Pomp and Circumstance.

Clif Ruffin, My love, My son, The first person on my side of the family to graduate from college.  No kidding.  I've gone to college many times in my life but never graduated. 

I'm so proud of him I'm bursting. 

2.  Cue the music

My precious Scout, lover of all things and people, especially me.  HE LOVES ME FOLKS!  He likes me more than he likes Jim.  I've died and gone to heaven.  He loves swimming!

However, not for one minute have we not looked for:

Gone but not forgotten: