The First Sip's Too Strong

Gin and tonic.  The weather turns and that’ll do.  Scotch in the winter.  That’s preferred.  Summer hits and I’ll take gin and tonic.  I’ll squeeze a load of raspberries with my hands and cut up a mango to remove the peel and squeeze the hell out of a lime wedge or two and be sure to scoop up some ice cubes so that it’s as cold as can be.  The first sip’s too strong.  Add tonic once and then again on the next sip. 

I’ve got this made and can now put the dinner together. I’ve got slab of pork.  I know how to cut it so that the pieces will cook fast.  It’s cooks very fast.  The older one had said:  “I want to have Chinese . . . ” so I get some di san xian put together for her, using peppers instead of eggplant.  It’s not only meat, fish and dairy I can’t cook for her.  Eggplant’s out too.

This evening I’m up late.  I’m grumpy.  It’s too late.  I wonder when I’ll be able to just call it a night and head to bed.  I’m still up and I’ve got to deal with three calls that take us off well into the evening.  I'd much rather do morning calls. 

And just before bed one of the proposals I have out gets back to me.  He’ll need to hear back and I may as well hit him off with a reply tonight.  Stay up then and write yet another email back.  I can do it without sloppy sleep so I type and then, finally I grab my book and as I should have a while back, head upstairs to bed. 

Tuesday, 4/30/19