Guinness is Good for You

My friend and I enjoying our very first Guinness at the Guinness brewery in Dublin, Ireland.

Today I was going to write about creating the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich. However, because it is St. Patrick’s Day, it is a great time to write about and celebrate my love for Guinness. I know, I can hear your moans of disappointment. I’ll write about the perfect PB&J another time. Promise. Now, please understand, I rarely drink these days, because I have found that for me, anti-depressant meds and alcohol don’t mix well. If I enjoy one beer, chances are great that I will become quite sleepy within an hour and I will have a headache come sunrise. Still, my love for Guinness is as strong as it was the day I tried my first one.

Years ago, while traveling abroad, my friend met several people. She became quite close with two guys from Hemel-Hempstead, a town in Hertfordshire, England. Interested in visiting the guys again, she invited me on a trip to England in May 1997. It was my first trip across the big pond, and we had a wonderful time. While in England, we checked into the cost of flights to Ireland. The price was right, so we decided to spend a couple of nights in Dublin, staying at a Hostel.

When one goes to Dublin, it should be a rule to tour the Guinness Brewery. As an incentive, you are given a free half pint of Guinness after the tour. And, it was after the tour that I sipped my very first Guinness. The picture above was taken during this life-changing moment. The fact that someone next to us was wearing a team shirt documenting the month and year of this momentousness event was priceless. I enjoyed the half pint so much that I went up to the bar to see if I could buy another one. I was embarrassed to find out one could not buy pints or half pints, though I realized it was safer to limit the Guinness consumption. Plus, one need only walk a couple of blocks to find a local pub serving fresh Guinness.

My friend and I did not go pub hopping that afternoon, but it was the start of our love affair for Guinness. And during the rest of our trip, I took many pictures of glasses filled with freshly poured Guinness, topped with a shamrock drawn in the thick foam head. Nearly 13yrs later, my love affair with Guinness continues. If I am going to have a beer, my first choice is always Guinness, and I keep Guinness in the fridge just in case. Perhaps tonight, during our Wednesday night routine of PB&Js and a movie, I will enjoy a Guinness. Who knows, my traveling friend may enjoy a Guinness today, too. Are you afraid of the dark? Have a pint of Guinness. “Try it. You’ll like it.”

Curious George

Every weekday morning, the boys and I sit down to watch Curious George, before we head to daycare or work. Though I wasn’t exposed to Curious George as a kid, my husband grew up with his parents reading Curious George books. I used to fumble through the books, when we were visiting his parents. I didn’t understand the draw to Curious George, perhaps because I am a girl or perhaps because I am just different. To me, the books were simply different tales of the man in the yellow hat leaving his monkey behind to cause trouble. George rarely listened, and his curiosity always got the best of him.

Ah ha! Causing trouble? Curiosity getting the better of someone? Sounds like a perfect formula for kids! More specifically, Curious George is the stuff of little boys, and the Dads who raise the little boys.

Truth be told, I’ve grown to love Curious George. And, I am quite fond of the classroom experiments that take place between each 15 minute episode. Our boys love Curious George, too. And, silly though it may sound, I believe our boys learn a bit about science and math, while watching the show. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t look to Curious George to teach our boys, but the fact that the show is somewhat educational is a nice bonus.

So, this morning I sat down with a cup of coffee and watched Curious George. I was waiting for the boys to join me. The boys didn’t wake up in time to watch Curious George, yet I sat and watched the entire show. I’m not sure what it says about me because I sat and watched Curious George without the supervision of a child. I think I’ll be OK, as long as I don’t feel the need to record episodes.

As I watched, all I could think was ‘the man in the yellow hat is a complete dork.’ He is suppose to be some sort of scientist, which makes me think he is smart. Then again, some of his actions lead me to believe the only bright thing about him is his yellow clothing. And, he seems to be oblivious to the fact that whenever he says, “Be a good little monkey,” it cues George to do the exact opposite.

I believe George is smarter than the man in the yellow hat – much smarter. I am not at all surprise that the man in the yellow hat is still single. I think women would have better luck with George than the man. But, I realize this is a kid’s show, and it isn’t about the man in the yellow hat finding a female (or male) companion. I mean, I’m not expecting the man in the yellow hat to try out for a spot on The Bachelor or even a bachelor on The Bachelorette. And yes, I realize I am talking about a cartoon and a reality show, but come on – both are pretty comical.

While watching Curious George, I came to realize what I liked most about this kid show, and other shows like it. Romance and sexual tension is not something you will find in shows like Curious George. Scripts for shows like Curious George are not written to create a love/hate relationship between the characters. I know, you are saying to yourself ‘duh’, right? Still, with all the dramas on daytime soaps and night-time television, I find Curious George to be quite refreshing. The man with the yellow hat is not interested (or too clueless) to worry about an adult relationship, and his friends seem to feel the same way. And, George? George is content running to the next corner and seeing what is around the bend.

Thank goodness for my kids. With kids in the house, I don’t feel nearly as odd watching kid shows as I would if it were just my husband and me. The boys and I can watch shows that are entertaining and educational. We’ll skip the kid shows that merely annoy. You know, shows like Caillou and Barney. Instead, we’ll enjoy watching the fun shows like Clifford, Dinosaur Train and – of course – Curious George. I look forward to watching Curious George tomorrow, even if the boys don’t wake up in time to watch it with me. Who knows, George might even be a good little monkey. (I hope not.)

The Dreaded Fitted Sheet

The left sheet was folded by me, and the right sheet was folded by my husband.

I present to you Exhibit A. And, no, there is no exhibit B. On the left, you see the fitted sheet I folded, and on the right, you see the fitted sheet my husband folded. For over 40 years now, I have yet to hone my skill of folding fitted sheets. Clearly, my husband’s skill-set is above mine, as his end result is quite neat. Though I will no doubt come across as sexist, I challenge all the men reading this post to take a moment and try their skill at folding fitted sheets. Married men, please consult with your wife on which sheet is the fitted sheet; and single men, please call your Mom and ask her. I am sure all the Moms in the world would love to receive a call from her son(s), anyway. Oh, and please, if you call your Mom, let her know I suggested you call. I try hard to get on the good side of Moms.

Folding fitted sheets neatly is not something I do well – do good? Argh, is it do well or do good? My use of grammar is not always done – um, I’m not always correct in my usage of grammar. Perhaps my mother will read this post and call me with the proper usage of ‘well’ and ‘good’. But, you will not find me waiting by the phone for my Mum to call, because my Mum, like me, doesn’t like the phone. This is not a post about phones, so I apologize for the digression. For the record, I referenced my Webster’s dictionary and found that I do not fold fitted sheets well, but I do have good hands.

I have already showed you pictures of our closets, so you are well aware of my lack of organizational skills. Though I lean more towards the insecure side, it does not prevent me from exposing my faults. In fact, one might say, okay – many would say, over-sharing is something I do well. Talking is another thing I do well, provided ‘do well’ means ‘often talks’. I listen well, too; even though I may ignore what I’ve been told or overheard. I am not a good silent reader, in part because I am easily distracted by sounds and miscellaneous and impromptu thoughts in my head. I do well when reading aloud to my boys, provided I am not reading Dr. Seuss. Dr. Seuss proves to be quite a challenging read-aloud. Actually, I find reading aloud A. A. Milne challenging, too.

I have a wonderful ability to annoy people. Just one loud outburst of my laughter will scare babies and generate looks of annoyance. In fact, on our way to a birthday party yesterday, my oldest did something I found quite funny, so I generated a loud outburst of laughter. My oldest quickly covered his ears and whined. I said, “Oh, I am sorry; I know that was loud.” My husband quickly returned, “Yes, it was loud, especially in the car.” Still, while my laughter may generate some annoyance, I have the ability to make people laugh, too. I mean, the fact that people laugh at me, counts as having the ability to make people laugh, right? And yes, self-deprecation is another thing I do well. I believe belittling is an important skill to keep one’s ego in check. Not sure why, but as I type, I hear Tigger saying, “And, belittling is what Tiggers do best!”

I am good at Jumbles. Frankly, I’m good at many word games. I love word games, too. I’m not good at number games. Sudoku is not my friend. I believe word problems are evil. I do not enjoy reading about Farmer John, who is driving his tractor 7 miles an hour, while wearing his size 36″ waist purple pants on the 2nd Tuesday of the month. When Farmer John gets to his brother’s house, which is 3 miles from where he went to school 20yrs ago, and the total number of times his 13″ diameter tractor wheels rotated completely during his journey, is of no use to me. I suppose getting a triple word score and a double letter score with a great word in a game of Scrabble is of no true  importance to me, either. Still, I’ll always pick a word game over Farmer John and Sudoku.

Aside from sharing the fact that I don’t fold fitted sheets well and my husband does fold fitted sheets well, I’m not sure I know what the purpose is of this post. Staying on target, following one train of thought and generally making sense is not on my list of things I do well; however, the ability to cause people to scratch their head and look confused is something I do quite well.