It was Goldfish's birthday last week, she is the big three-seven. I've known her since she was 22, and honestly she has stayed the same sweet, level-headed girl the whole time. Let it be known that in Goldfish's circle of friends and family, birthdays are a very big deal. HUGE. Which never fails to freak me out a bit because in my family and circle of friends, birthdays are almost a non-issue. Some of my family - and almost always both sons - give me a call on my birthday. Some send cards. As you can see from the stash above, Goldfish celebrates a bit differently . . . .
Goldfish had two requests from me on her birthday - that I cook for her (which I did, Chicken Spaghetti from "the cookbook"), and that I wouldn't respond to any ambulance or fire runs unless they REALLY needed more help (which I didn't, even to that interesting sounding one out at OSI that was very capably handled without me).
The Chicken Spaghetti was a real basic casserole - what I liked about it was you put the onions and green peppers in raw before baking so they still had a crunch when served, and the heat from the cayenne pepper. Goldfish had a cold so with the two cups of chicken stock, I thought it was a good comfort food for her to enjoy.
We had lots of leftovers and just finished it off last night. I liked it best warmed up with a layer of crab meat on it - pretty much anything tastes better when you throw a bunch of crab meat on it!
And finally, I picked up a little cake at the store that turned out to be basically inedible - seriously. We laughed about it then and we're still laughing about it . . . . Chico and I did sing "Happy Birthday" though.
Sorry about the lack of posts, it's the dang Olympics. I don't watch television as a rule, too many other things to do, but we do love the Olympics, especially Winter! We've been having some pretty good storms this past week with some frigid temperatures, at least by island standards. This next one which is just getting warmed up is supposed to be a doozy! Okay, cheers everyone, I'm heading under a stack of blankets where the sound of the howling wind outside can sing me to sleep.