Skip to main content

Done Like Dinner





She'd poured her heart into this. How?

She got up early and cleaned the apartment. Really cleaned the place from top to bottom including special effort in both the bathroom and the kitchen. For different reasons of course. It's not like she used the two rooms interchangeably. It's just that they were both equally messy. Living alone gave her the luxury to make a mess and to leave a mess. However, her special anticipated caller later that day moved her into action. It was going to be a special day that she anticipated would end in a special way. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink she thought merrily to herself.

She then spent the rest of the morning at the market. She had planned a special meal with her special someone and she was going to go all out with the most delicious hors d'oeuvres, freshest vegetables, chicken and fruit. She chuckled to herself over Archie Bunker calling them"horse ovaries" in that 70s TV show.

She got back to her apartment in the early afternoon and set to work preparing her grandmother's special chicken recipe, simple really, a slow cooker chicken stroganoff. Once that was underway she started work on her "horse ovaries". Marinated calamari with fennel, wild rice pancakes with smoked trout salad and some simple corn fritters ought to impress him.

About mid-afternoon she was ready to prepare dessert. This was to be her piece de resistance if the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. She carefully pulled together a grand raspberry and blueberry trifle, quite patriotic she thought with its red, white and blue layers.

When all was done and the kitchen cleaned once more she had just enough time for a quick shower and change of clothes, not to mention a dab of make-up. And she didn't need much more than a dab of make-up because the radiance from her all-day efforts still beamed from her cheeks and forehead.

Sooner than she realized 6:00 rolled around, the front door bell rang and there he was. And there were three other guys standing in the hallway with him.

"Hey, babe, I invited Dick, Frank and Leonard over to watch the Superbowl with us on your new 56 inch flat-screen TV you told me about. I hope you don't mind if things get a little rowdy."

Spurned, she sank slowly into a living room chair her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands aware of the male-induced noise level rising around her and thought "talk about un-re-quieted love!"

The prompts from Studio30+ this week were unrequited/spurned with which I of course took some liberties - and not with just the trifle.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Polka Dot Door

A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born.  That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network.  And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard.  But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door.  And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran.  The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993.  I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share.  The formula was pretty simple.  A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains.  The show opened as follows... Imagination Day!  Oh boy!  You know what happens on Imagination D

My Back Pages - November

I know, I know, I know I should have reported in before now. But sometimes real life just gets in the way. I attempted 5 books in November. I say attempted because I slapped a big DNF (did not finish) on Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon. I just can't seem to get into this guy. It's the second or third of his I've given up on, Not so the other four, starting with a biography of Stephen Stills called Change Partners. This followed by a hilarious biography of the guy responsible for National Lampoon called A Stupid and Futile Gesture - How Doug Kenney and National Lampoon Changed Comedy Forever. I ended the month reading yet another biography, this one of the man behind Rolling Stone magazine,. It was called Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Wenner and Rolling Stone Magazine. A fascinating read. So last month I hit the magic number 50 I'd imagined for myself back in January. If I roll this month into my yearly total I'm at 54 books. And I still hav

30 Days of Photos III #4 Sour

Check out Ziva's Inferno for the rest of today's photos.