There are giant electronic signs on the New Jersey Turnpike -- overhead signs, usually used to notify drivers of traffic delays and such -- that say
REPORT SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR
CALL 1-800-XX-SAFE NJ
So we were having a good time with this one on the trip down and back to the ILS. I finally finished listening to the Al Franken book; the Hubs asked me if I had downloaded it onto the iPod. I had, from Audible or something. He said that John Ashcroft probably already has me on a list somewhere. (He was teasing me. He's an anti-Bushie as well.) I said that's fine with me.
Nobody ate any matzoh, but no surprise there. Really, it is nice of her in some way to think that she needs to include it. It's just odd that after all these years she doesn't realize that she doesn't. Speaking of eating, if I did go to W8 Watchers meetings (and not just doing the online thing), I think that after today I'd be drummed out of the corps, like Chuck Connors in the opening credits of Branded. They'd be ripping my brass buttons off right this minute. And I truly ate as little as I possibly could. Small portions of everything. The problem was what I was eating small portions of.
I mentioned yesterday that the Hubs and I had stopped by to visit his aunt and uncle, whom I love. I did not mention that his aunt is the Harry Potter of the Italian culinary world. The woman is both a genius and a magician. And she supplied us with the traditional Easter goodies to a) take home for our own consumption, and b) bring down to south Jersey to share with the rest of the fam. One of her fabulous goodies is a kind of cookie called Knots. I could find a recipe and link to it ... but no, I can't. They are sweet little lumps of dough -- she doesn't even really tie them into knots anymore -- that rise up so light I don't know how they stay on the plate, and glazed with sweet, but not too sweet, pastel icing. Now I did not eat my traditional dozen or so. Or more. Three yesterday at her house, and just one today. Then there was the Easter Pie. It's essentially this, but better, of course. In the Hubs' family they call it something else which I can't spell, a local dialect thing, I guess. It was also to die for, and is an essential component of the family's Easter.
And get this. When we arrived down there around noon, we called R in Wales to wish her happy Easter, talk to everyone, etc., and she said she and a few friends were having a holiday meal at her flat, and each had made something, and her contribution was Easter Pie! She did find an Internet recipe and made it and said it was okay. Well, the FIL went totally bananas. He's the Italian connection in the family, and he was so thrilled that R felt that this was a necessary part of the holiday for her. It was very, very sweet. Of course now, she'll have to make it for us all every Easter for as long as we live.
Hope you all enjoyed a good holiday and/or weekend.
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I'm watching nothing's on
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