Everyone that I spoke to about this place said that there’s NO WAY anyone can finish a sandwich there and I touted, “Well, they haven’t met my boy!” Everyone scoffed.

We easily found the place and went in. It seemed harmless enough. It was between lunch and dinner so there were only a handful of people in there. And then we noticed the shirts that the people that worked there were wearing. They all said on the back of the shirt, “If you finish, then we’ve made a mistake”. My hungry man-child took that as a direct personal challenge. (He’s incredibly competitive – a trait he inherited from his father’s side of the family)

The menu was expansive – SO much to choose from. It was tough for me to decide. But Chris, being a very visual person, saw the big picture of the Route 58 Deli signature sandwich, The Monster Rueben Burger, and he was sold. I finally opted for the Triple D which was promoted with a picture of Guy Fieri from TV show, Diners Drive-Ins and Dives, on The Food Network. (We LOVE that show!)

She brought mine out first. Only I was thinking that it was odd that they put BOTH our sandwiches on one plate. Okay. I figured I’d roll with it. But it turns out that it was ALL my sandwich. Holy Cow!!!

The Triple D! It’s pastrami, smoked turkey, coleslaw, roast beef and Russian dressing. (The pastrami was to die for!) But each layer was an inch thick. This sandwich had to weigh five pounds.

Then they brought out an order of fries. They were part of Chris’ order. He started on the fries while I tried to figure out HOW to eat my sandwich. It was definitely a challenge. So I opted to go at it one layer at a time with a knife and fork. I realize that I looked like a pansy, but hey, who was I trying to impress?

Now for the Big Daddy Sandwich, The Monster Rueben Burger! OMG! This picture doesn’t seem to portray exactly how MONSTER this sandwich truly is.

And neither does this one really. It looks smaller in the picture. . . if you can believe that.

So now the question is: Did Route 58 Deli “make a mistake” when they made Chris’ sandwich? Did he really eat the whole thing?

YES! Yes, they did make a mistake. Because yes, he did finish it. AND his fries.

The waitress came by and was SHOCKED. She said that as long as she’s worked there, she could count on one hand how many people have been able to eat the whole thing.

Then she looked at me and my sandwich and said, “Awh! That’s cute.” speaking of the tiny little dent that I put in one half of my sandwich. I brought mine home and Chris came by the next day and ate two very large sandwiches. I ate one medium size sandwich. And there is still enough meat in there for two more large sandwiches.

The sandwiches are pricey, but if you factor in that the average person can eat for three days, it’s really a pretty good deal. . . and a lot of fun!

And to think my friends scoffed.

But so far, I was doing well. . . considering. See how pretty they started out.

Anyway, lately I’ve been out trying my heart out to water and nourish my poor, thirsty flowers. This one was waving at me, saying, “Hey Lady!!! Can you spare a drink?”

Then I started noticing a bit of a problem.

What is this? I wondered. Each day I would go out and more and more leaves were just disappearing. A LOT of leaves! Not like an insect had invaded them. No. It was much more than that.

Leave to my trusty cat who sits in this window and goes all shades of apeshit when she sees another cat outside to find the culprit. She was in the window LOSING HER MIND when I saw what she was after.

It wasn’t another cat. It was a BUNNY. A BABY bunny. The waskally wabbit! Busted!!! I caught it red-handed (so to speak). Chowing down! On MY flowers!

I wanted to be mad, but he was just so tiny and SO cute. And not very afraid. He let me get pretty close. But I didn’t know what to do with him if I actually caught him. So I let him hop away. Since then, I’ve seen him hopping down the sidewalk passing my house as if to say, “I’ve gotten everything I can at that house. Yep, stripped her clean. Now on to greener pastures.”

I think I’d rather just leave out a head of lettuce for the little tike. It would certainly be a lot cheaper than my flowers.

Well, as it turns out. . . after suffering through blistering, suffocating, mind-boggling heat. . . 80 degrees feels like Fall.

This has been the HOTTEST summer that I can remember! Did we even HAVE a Spring? I don’t remember it. It was frigid cold, then it was HOT. There was no in between this year.

Every weekend since my pool opened, it has been like this. . . AT or near 100 degrees. The water in the pool is almost to the boiling point. It’s more like an oversize jacuzzi. This is coming from the girl who always tiptoes into the water like a pansy.

But finally, some relief!

Last Friday, I accidentally ripped half the flap off (they called it “nature’s bandaid” – I called it part of my finger). It snagged on my shirt as I was changing clothes. Let me tell you how fast my entire body completely froze. It was stunning how quickly I froze as I realized what was happening. I think even my hair froze and I’m fairly sure that my hiney puckered abit. Then I ever so slowly released it from my shirt to look at it. ICK! Half the flap was torn half off exposing “not ready for primetime” skin.
Whereas they had wanted me to leave it open to heal, I did not take that advice. I was certain that they wouldn’t say that if they were looking at what I was looking at. So I put some Vitamin E on it and bandaged it back up ever so delicately.

THEN while I was at the doctor’s office this morning, she decided to trim it up some (after having soaked it for 15 minutes) so I wouldn’t have anymore snags. And the REST OF THE FLAP peeled off people! You want to know what she said? Huh? She said, “Ooops.” I said, “Doctor’s are not supposed to use the word Ooops. It shouldn’t even be in your vocabulary.” I kept thinking about Tom Hanks screaming “There’s no crying in baseball!” and thinking “There’s no Ooops’ in the doctor’s office!” But I got an Ooops. And it didn’t hurt her a bit.

Apparently, it had only barely been holding on (so she said). Now I’ve got what looks equivalent to a large, fresh burn; like a big, giant blister.

Finally, my finger has it! It had her attention. She HAD been manhandling it (she called it “massaging” it while I called it “manhandling” it) every time I saw her making me quake in my boots and wonder if my left hand was coordinated enough to take a swing at her and actually make contact. But not today. No, she was ever so gentle today. Thank goodness. I may have had to fight her with my lame left arm had she taken her normal stance.

Anyway, it’s bandaged up bigger and better than ever and she instructed me to be VERY CAREFUL with it, not to bump it, stretch it, or put any pressure on it or it my “burst”.

Now, there were a number of responses I had to those instructions. First, was “Duh! You don’t have to tell ME twice to be careful.” And second, the term “burst” sent shivers down my spine. Eeewww! I don’t want my finger to “burst”!!!

Let’s just say. . . I won’t be doing any cartwheels anytime soon. I’ll continue to henpeck at my keyboard with my awkward finger position. And Ouchie!!!!!

I am here and now apologizing to said index finger, for it holds a very viable position on my predominant hand and in my life. Wiping one’s behind, for instance, with said predominant hand was once a luxury . . . . now not so much. It’s awkward. My left arm is about as coordinated as drunk duck. I can barely feed myself with the dang thing.

Typing without an index finger proves challenging, as does maneuvering one’s mouse and clicking the clicky thing. And we’re not even talking about the throbbing that takes place when my hand falls below my heart. Ouch! I basically walk around with my hand in the air as if everyone that I come into contact with thinks I’m indicating that they’re number one.

So leave it to me to get the itch to blog again after a pretty lengthy absence and have a bum hand. To all my friends who have been concerned about my absence from the world wide web, thank you for caring. I just had a rough couple of months. Between my job (that I take WAY too seriously), the holidays (I try to do WAY too much and end up stressing myself out completely), my brother’s mental health issues and my own crazy brain issues (I’ll get into that story as soon as they get a clue as to what’s going on), I haven’t had the energy or the heart to put anything into writing.

BUT! Stella’s getting her groove back. Even though my favorite hobbies (cooking and my camera) are sorta on the backburner for a little while, I do still have a lot of crazy stuff that going on that I can certainly write about (for the few of you that actually read this stuff).

Here’s to getting back on course.

After four days of RELENTESS rain and WIND, the sun was quite the welcome change of pace.  This area absolutely got HAMMERED this past few days.  I’ve lived here in the Virginia Beach/Norfolk area for 21 years ago this month.  I’ve seen several hurricanes and quite a few nor’easters (I admit I had no clue what that was when I first moved here, but it’s another name for a really nasty storm when you have an ocean to your east, a bay to your north, and rivers and tributaries running throughout every nook and cranny of your area).  I’ve seen wind damage, been through power outages for days, and have seen, been IN, and driven through some serious flooding. (Ex killed my Price Is Right car that way once) 

I’ve SEEN bad weather. BUT, I honestly have never seen wind and flooding like we had with this nor’easter (remnants of Ida).  It was worse than any hurricane that’s come before it in the last 21 years.  Don’t get me wrong.  We get the storms.  They come and go pretty quickly.  A flash in the pants most times.  But this dang weather system just sat on top of us and hovered like nothing I’ve ever seen before.  High tide after high tide.  Constant, relentless.  And the flooding was amazing.  The flood water was chest deep at the intersection of Boush and Olney streets in downtown Norfolk, a corner that I used to work. (Wow! That sounds like I was a street walker)  I’d seen that area flood before, but never CHEST DEEP.

Our weathermen were all so excited that they were dang near having orgasms on the air.  “Oooh Oooh!  It’s R.E.A.L.L.Y. windy and rainy outside!  **insert gutteral sounds**”  They get SO excited over the tiniest little weather phenomenom that you can just imagine how they were squirming in their shorts over ACTUAL WEATHER.  Bless their hearts (a Southern term that can summarize a variety of statements with its own little tone – too bad there’s no audio here).

But we survived it all!  Me and my trusty Jeep made it to work everyday.  The crew at work was VERY slim, but I was there!  Braving the elements, trudging through flood water.  And the General Manager made a comment about me wearing sneakers.  **insert gutteral sounds here too, only MUCH different**  He couldn’t say, “Hey, thanks for making it in.”  NO.  I get snide comments about wearing sneakers (like I was going to ruin my good heels in flood waters).  **more gutteral mumbling**

Tomorrow I will be wearing my proper footwear.

Yep, things at work still suck. My nasty Monday has turned into nasty Wednesday and will turn into Thank God It’s Nasty Friday. I see no light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve managed to piss off all but a handful of people, but you know what? I’m standing my ground. People just need to do their jobs and stop bellyaching about being “busy”. Hello! We are ALL busy! If people spent less time “talking” about how busy they were and just did their jobs, they might get something accomplished at the end of the day.

The sad part is that I’ve learned who does and who does not have my back at the office. Who has respect for the work I do and who doesn’t. The list has surprised me. And saddened me. Now I need to get a grip and just deal with it. If the last ten years of proving my work ethic doesn’t do the trick, then I don’t know what will. It is what it is. At least I know where I stand now. My head is officially OUT of the sandbox.

I DID manage to find just what I was looking for though – a place to rant. It’s called “Work Sucks“. It’s perfect! These folks did a fantastic job with this site. It was just what I had in mind, only now I don’t have to create it myself. So if you ever find yourself having a bad day, go check this site out. It’s great!

Oh! and I have a toothache. **I’m on a downhill roll, huh?** I had been thinking it was an earache (and would pass) because my cheekbone and ear have been hurting for a couple of days. But today it’s worse. I’d been craddling the side of my head in my hand and that’s when I realized the origin is not my ear, but my tooth. Yikes.

I guess I’d better go on to the dentist before I lose my job AND my insurance. Whee!

Oh! And now that I’ve found a great place to rant, I won’t be torturing you all with my whining. I’ll be back to posting recipes and happy thoughts in no time.

Me – in looking at his 3+ foot round web and how much work he’d put into it, said, “Well, by all means Mr. Freaky Spider! Carry on!” and I slowly backed away.

I went straight inside to get my camera. Mr. Freaky Spider was slightly annoyed with the flashes. So I only snapped a couple, since I didn’t really want to piss him off or anything.

I did, however, go immediately look him up on the Internet. You know, to check out what kind of neighbor I have now. Turns out that it’s basically a Garden Spider, an Orb-Weaver, and is a non-aggressive spider. If you don’t bother him, he won’t bother you kind of spider. Okie dokie. . . he gets to live.

I was happy about that too because I would have a problem killing something the size of my fist. It’d make entirely too much noise and I’d probably lose my cookies.

Then I felt things crawling on me all night long. After three whole hours of sleep, I’m thinking I need to find Mr. Freaky Spider a new home. Not that I’m paranoid or anything. Now the question is HOW? How do I move Mr. Freaky Spider without “bothering” him?

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year-old grandson. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather’s shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. “We must do something about father”, said the son. “I’ve had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.”

So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. When the family glanced in Grandfather’s direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food.

The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, “What are you making?” Just as sweetly, the boy responded, “Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food in when I grow up.” The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.

The words struck the parents so much that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took Grandfather’s hand and gently led him back to the family table… For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

Children are remarkably perceptive. Their eyes ever observe, their ears ever listen, and their minds ever process the messages they absorb. If they see us patiently provide a happy home atmosphere for family members, they will imitate that attitude for the rest of their lives. The wise parent realizes that every day that building blocks are being laid for the child’s future.

Let us all be wise builders and role models. Take care of yourself, … and those you love, … today, and everyday!