Attrition…

My plan is working.  It is now “Day 4” of “Operation Attrition”. 

The Girl has been in London since Tuesday, and the refrigerator is beginning to get a bit lean…  Most of the fresh stuff is winnowed down.  Just a few lumps of fresh-ish pineapple and melon in the plastic buckets, and some not-quite-ready-to-wilt green stuff in the crisper.

i’ve made a dent in the yogurt, tortillas and spreadable cheeses.  Oh, and the open bottles of wine?  That’s being cleared tonight.  By the end of the weekend?  The visible shelf space will exceed that which is occupied.

In the freezer quadrant, i’ve made a dent in some of the frozen vegetarian meal-like-substances.  It’s only been four days, and i’ve focused on bashing my way through the fresh stuff.  Before it gets fuzzy.

i love it when a plan comes together…

The Girl will be studying in London for another month.  For the past two years, i have avoided grocery shopping, which i despise.  Her contribution, as a citizen of the household, has been to take on the responsibility for stocking the fridge, freezer and pantry*.  It’s worked out well.

It is time to clean out the fridge.  Rotate stock in the pantry.  Yes, this is my excuse.  THIS is the reason i shall be able to avoid going to the grocery store for the entire month.

Not that she’s going to feel guilty when she comes home and finds the cupboards bare.  Or my sunken cheeks, pleading eyes and potentially** shriveled carcass… Passive aggressive much?

image found here

* i still buy beer, wine and booze as needed…. Priorities, folks…

** Sadly, i could wander the desert for a month, subsisting on cactus fluids, rodent hulls and scorpion meat and STILL not be emaciated.  The joys of being a chubby…

Ghost in the Graveyard

My condo is located in a small development adjacent to a cemetery. Not only does this feed The Boy’s notion that the development should be called “God’s Waiting Room” – due to the geriatric nature of many of my neighbors – but i am often witness to funerary rituals that leave me saying ‘what the fuck?’

Last weekend, i got a “new neighbor” on Saturday – seeing the gravediggers do their business on my way out to the market, and later seeing them prepare for a graveside service as i went out for a ride on the motorcycle.

As i was coming home at lunch today, i caught a glimpse of some modifications to the mound of flowers on the newest gravesite. Worth a closer look…

Autumn is in the air, and it seems a pumpkin appeared…

Well, lookit that?  A ghost in the graveyard!

Awww… not just a ghost, but a ghost that’s been impaled through the eye with a pumpkin stem!  A nice fuzzy spider and a rubber bat to complete the tableau!

Oh, but wait, we’re not done until there are rubber cockroaches and a nice black rubber skeleton in place!

Ok.  i know there’s no prescribed method for grieving.  But i couldn’t help but imagine the discussion that started with Mom greeting the kids after school:

Momma:  Hey, kids!  It’s nice outside today!  Do you wanna go decorate Grampa’s grave?

Little Margie:  Wow, Momma!  That’ll be swell!

Billy, Jr.:  Can we decorate for halloween?  Make it spooky?

Little Margie:  We promise that no matter how gruesome this is if you really think about it, we won’t wake up screaming in the middle of the night thinking that Zombie Grampa is coming to get us!

i dunno.  Maybe it didn’t play out that way.  But i sort of like these people.  Especially because they took a sharpie and had everyone sign the pumpkin – including the inscription “We don’t die, we multiply!”

i can has bunny

What is the world coming to?  Has the economic meltdown driven us to paranoia?  Fear?  Are retailers too spooked to order sufficient holiday inventory?  It’s a sorry state of events when i can’t do my usual “buy easter candy on easter morning while everyone else is at church” routine…

Making the trek to the local grocery store this morning, i was stunned to discover empty shelves.  Some cheap plastic toys and generic jelly beans.  There was nothing but some Opera Cream Crosses.  Seriously.  Jesus died so children could eat the symbol of the cross?

This is my body.  Eat me. (paraphrased...)

This is my body. Eat me. (paraphrased...)

There was NOTHING even remotely easter-ish left.  No Reese’s eggs, no Cadbury cream filled decadence, no hollow chocolate bunnies with cute faces that make you feel guilty when you chew them to shreds…  Not a PEEP to be found!  When did Peeps get popular?

from the I CAN HAZ CHEESBURGER folks...

from the I CAN HAZ CHEESBURGER folks...

Never one to throw in the towel, i had to improvise.  Granted, this only works because my children have pretty much seen it all, and share my twisted outlook.  Oh, and they’re in their 20’s – even i probably wouldn’t have done this when they were young.  Bottom line?  It’ll get eaten…

Biting off the "ears"?  Not recommended...

Biting off the "ears"? Not recommended...