I can’t share this anywhere but here. Went out for dinner 2 nights ago with SIL and BIL. Got home in a dark driveway, and I tripped through some nasty ground-level brambles that had the tops of my feet bleeding and my DH laughing at me because I am a classic klutz.
I couldn’t let go of my anger at his amusement over my injuries. He had a baseball bat zucchini on the kitchen counter with a recipe for stuffing it with a bunch of stuff. He fell asleep and I pitched it out into the garden. Knocked over a teak bench.
I came to my senses, again in the dark, to search for said zucchini because I didn’t want The War of the Roses, bruised a rib and crawled back into the house. This morning, they were all looking for the giant zucchini, couldn’t find it. Finally they went for breakfast.
I located said vegetable. I cut the end off of it that was impaired by I don’t want to know what critter. I halved it, scooped it out, chopped the flesh, put it in the fridge. He thanked me for prepping it for him.
Yeah, well, it’s an observation of the absurdity of life. What I would have liked to do differently is show him how far I threw the giant damned zucchini. I actually surprised myself.
Whoa girl ~ don’t hate yourself. You’re not a wimp. Every marriage has its ups and downs. If I could count the times over the years when my husband brought a basket of tomatoes from the garden in once a day and said “we” need to do something with these. Well, ‘I’ didn’t grow them and I don’t like raw tomatoes. Sometimes I felt like telling him to go out in the backyard so I could chunk em at him.
And besides, it’s a full moon tonight. You’re allowed to feel the way you do.
My apologies for not reading your original post more carefully. Coupled with another post. I get it now. One thing I always think of when the going gets tough.
“If everyone in the entire world threw all their problems into one great big pile, and you could see what everyone else’s problems looked like, you’d grab yours right back.”
Ain’t that the truth.
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Harters
(John Hartley - a culinary patriot eating & cooking in Northwest England)
8
If it makes it and shows here, there will have to be subtitles.
I hear you. Throw the giant zucchini/courgettes where you will. I’m sorta tempted to buy a carload of giant squash and drive them out to you, then we will hurl them with joyful abandon.
““Behold this magnificent bounty,” I say to the oldest one.
“Exciting,” he says, without looking.
“Get used to it,” I say. “You’ll be eating these for the next six weeks.””
