Don't Sweat the Petty Stuff

I was off work the last two days with a sore throat, it's raining in the mountains so the suck factor for skiing is off the charts, Ron wasn't sure he could come over (he lives in Seattle-the wet side-and I live in Central Washington-we met three years ago online) due to his work schedule, so rather than pout about not skiing (yes, I could ski in the rain but it takes a lot of the fun out of it) and the possibility of not seeing Ron for the weekend, I decided to drive over to his place for the holiday weekend. Normally in winter, I ski and he drives over to the dry side.

I texted him that me and the bird-Bruno, who is female, but I didn't know that when I got her until she laid eggs last summer-were on the way over. I feel like kind of an eccentric old maid traveling with the bird, but if I leave her, she's totally neurotic when I get home. He texted back to ignore the mess in the kitchen and the rest of the house, for that matter. Hmmm, so he lives like a slob when I'm not around...I entered the house cautiously, expecting to find Armageddon. Gee, the bed wasn't made and there were like six dishes and a bunch of silverware in the sink. It took me all of five minutes to clean it up, then I popped some beef short ribs in to boil and will bake them with barbecue sauce and do some oven baked fries before he gets home.

So what about the petty stuff? I've been reading "Food for Thought" written by Brittany in Texas, whose beloved passed away less than two years after they were married and in one post she said she would have paid less attention to the petty stuff. I'm paraphrasing, but it got me thinking about the stuff I nag this guy about. I've been married and divorced three times, both of us have been single about 10 years (and not unhappily), and before I met Ron, I can't say I believed in love, or love at first sight, or soul mates. I believe in them all now, from the moment I met him.

So what do I nag him about? He's a total packrat and I'm not, and I've told him I don't want to buy a house big enough to house all his crap. Alot of it is even his kids' crap. He understands that and is willing to part with some of it, but some of the things he wants to keep-I think are just dumb. His first computer. Probably he's had six since then, like the rest of us, but apparently this one really means something to him; I think he had to fight his ex-at that time first-wife to buy it. Double-dumb. But after reading Brittany's account, I decided this was indeed a petty thing. Let him keep the damn computer, shove it in a closet somewhere, and get on with living our life. Thanks, Brittany, for the insight. I'm nearly twice your age and don't mind learning a lesson from a younger babe!

The dinner is pretty simple; I seldom cook anything difficult, unlike EatLiveTravelWrite, who has spent the last few weeks doing battle with macaroons, her accounts of which I have thoroughly enjoyed. Boil spare ribs until they're tender, about 2 hours. Slather them in Tony Roma's bbq sauce, which is mercifully available at Safeway, since there is no TR in Yakima. Probably to qualify as a food blog, I should invent a bbq sauce, but I'm not doing it tonight! Bake until they're sticky and gooey.

Slice potatoes into wedges, coat with olive oil and seasonings-at Ron's house, that will likely be garlic salt and pepper, maybe some paprika, because he doesn't have near the spice collection that I do (he sometimes cooks with cream of something soups-GASP!!), and bake until tender, about 20 minutes. I'll post photos after he gets home, because I can't find his camera. He doesn't take it to work, does he?