You Say It's Your Birthday

It's my birthday too, yeah.

The big six-o.

That hardly seems right. I still haven't figured out what I want to be when I grow up.

Anyway, I'm not going to do any more posting today--being the one here who's done it before, I get to make my special birthday dinner,  Bouef Bourginonon, which is a multi-stage process that takes hours--right now, the main course is in the oven and I'm taking a quick break while elder feral son Uday tends a semi-watchful eye toward the Oignons Glacés À Brun and sole responsibility for not screwing up the Champignons Sautés Au Beurre.

It ain't really that high-falutin', and it's really pretty inexpensive when you consider I'm making a big mess of it that will feed the entire family, but it is very time-consuming.  While I have my differences with the French over lots of stuff, enjoying much of their cookifying has never been one of them.

Seven minutes and I take the simmering onions off, which will free up a burner for parboiling the red taters.  The shrooms ought to be just about ready to join them, then it's off to see my poor Dad in hospice care who is not doing well at all and has taken a turn for the worse.  It really does make so simple a thing as cooking a family meal with my son a very special way to spend some time.

I won't be doing a Gun Rights Examiner column today, nor will I be back here releasing comments or reading emails until tomorrow. I have family matters to attend, and a new batch of special cigars to choose from later.

If you think I've earned a birthday present, give me one in page view compensation  by going over and reading some of the GRE stuff, and by sharing links/telling your friends about it.  If you don't, what in the world are you doing still reading all the way down here?