Top Chef night

How sad and pathetic I am... my secret shame... I love Top Chef. dh is home on Wednesday nights, and he pretends to be appalled and makes comments like, "I can actually see your IQ dropping during this show." But then, he watches, seemingly paying no attention while visiting his Maverick message boards.

The thing is, I would be a chef if it weren't for the whole "get your ass out of my kitchen" thing I have going on... I really don't want help in the kitchen. Just go sit in the living room with your beverage and leave me alone. I will chat with you later, or from across the room. Your choice. I get this from my mother. It's a wonder I even learned to cook at all {thanks Grandma J and Aunt B, for allowing me into the kitchen!}

But now this comes out. WTF? Who is out there taking shots at chefs? And he just kept cooking! What a guy. Guess they're saying he was hit by a "falling bullet" from a near-by golf course. Did people forget those pesky physics laws? Do they think that bullets, when fired into the air, just keep going up? I wonder how many people have died due to these falling bullets.

I have not touched my camera in days. It's just wrong. I need to go shoot something. {with the camera. No falling or otherwise bullets for me, thanks}

Speaking of shoots... {we weren't but now we are} we have some teeny, tiny little bits of green coming up in the yard. Bulbs, baby. dh and the girly girls planted tons of bulbs last fall, and it may be that the deer did not consume them all. Hooray. Nothing better than green after the winter.

~ mamalama ~ hiding from the Knights who say NI.