We write to taste life twice

I am now registered on the state of Oklahoma job link. It seems every job site has its own custom resume form that I have to fill out, so the fact that I have one already on my hard drive is rather pointless.

Anyway, we'll see if this does me any good.

In other news, the landlord's old man came over with a chainsaw and jabbered at me in German. I figured he came to do some trimming, so I gave my consent. What I didn't realize he was going to do was chop down the top half of all the shrubs that make up the "fence" between our backyard and the farm road next to us. Now everyone who walks by can see into our backyard.

I feel so exposed.

He's coming back tomorrow to finish the job. He should also be weeding our garden, since we pay him to do it, but I won't hold my breath. I'm not sure what the point was in lopping off the top of the shrubs. There was nothing wrong with them.

Lance came home at the exact moment that dinner was ready. I love it when that happens. I had planned on keeping it warm, but there was no need. I threw together "Easy Chicken Pasta Primavera," a recipe I hadn't tried before, but that I will make again. It was very quick, tasty, and healthy (although I doubt there's anything really healthy about bottled fat free ranch dressing, but that would be the only questionable ingredient). Just chicken, garlic, fettuccine, carrots, broccoli, a little olive oil, a little parmesan cheese, ranch dressing, basil, lemon peel and pepper. I got the recipe from bettycrocker.com, but as usual, I can never follow a recipe exactly. I added the lemon peel and fresh cracked pepper to it, and I think it was a good call. Lance doesn't love ranch dressing, so I had to disguise the taste of it. He had no clue.

While I was in the kitchen cleaning up, post-dinner, I accidently slammed my hip into the corner of the counter, right on the bone. Yeowch!! Nobody ever accused me of being graceful (it's a wonder I got an A in ballet class when I took it as a college elective). I think I'm going to get a lovely bruise there now.

I turned in my current writing projects today and told my editor that I need to lighten the workload. I explained the upcoming move and our upcoming travels and how life is about to get insane. I mentioned that I could take on a COUPLE of small projects until August 10. He assigned me four. In what universe does a couple = 4?

No matter...I should be able to get them done. I'm going to Valkenburg on Wednesday, so I need to find the time to do the write-up on that too before we leave. Plus I'm trying to finish a Jon Katz book ( Dog Days: Dispatches from Bedlam Farm) to write up a review and I will probably finish I, Mona Lisa tomorrow, which I need to give back to Christine so she can pass it on to someone else for book club.

I spent a little bit of time checking out our cruise ship today. The Bridge Cam shows that it is currently on its way to Copenhagen (camera - wet...sea - choppy). A new cruise starts tomorrow (a slightly different itinerary from ours) and then after that one, ours begins. I checked out all the various decks on the ship...our deck (Lido) has two huge swimming pools (one open, one enclosed), a few hot tubs, a pizza restaurant, and a hamburger/hotdog grill restaurant...and a couple of bars. Most of the other good stuff is below our deck, and there is the dance club (which I would love to do, but Lance probably wouldn't) on the very top deck. Lance says (and I have no idea where he gets this information) that we'll probably be among the youngest people onboard the ship...he feels it will be full of older folks. So we'll see if he's right. I don't mind...I seem to get along with older folks better than with those my own age. I guess it's because I have an old soul (so I've been told).

Believe it or not, I might actually relax on this cruise, instead of spending my free time scribbling copious notes. But then again, part of the joy for me is recording every detail of our travels. But this travel writer might be getting a tad burned out on the writing...not the traveling, though.