Visitors.

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The patio operation, dubbed the Long Outside, went well.  The idea for having a pitcher of water and enough glasses went well.  I even managed to find a recently washed blue and white checkerboard cotton place mat upon which to set the pitcher and glasses.  The weather was very cordial as well.  The sun well past, a cool breeze, and a simply pleasant environment.  Yes, that worked much better than a trip into the cave.  A good conversation went forward.

Then... a call.  Couldn't rightly, at first, make heads or tails of the sound.  It has been a while since I heard the whole of my phone ringing.  Usually I answer quickly, or it's not around when it goes off.  Odd how one can forget such a mundane thing.  Oh, and then, to figure out where the phone was...  Somewhere here or there.  Ah!  In the bedroom for some odd reason.  Dinner, the reason for the call.  I had forgotten it was Sunday.  Actually, I never thought what day it was, since Friday, and even then that was an accident of notions that lead me to know the day, and promptly forget.  I think it was Huckleberry putting up Friday music, and me about to post about how he had... mistaken the day, only to realize it was indeed Friday.  No, you... probably do not understand.  But that is a good thing.

Another good chat.  And, the request of a favor!  I am not positive I can help, but I am most certainly going to give it as good a go as I can.  I get very few favors asked of me, sadly.  So... I am keen on doing right by one when I get it.  This one I have a fair shot at, for a number of reasons, mostly having the time to tinker and research.  I only seem like a grumpy old man.  Mostly.

Dinner arrived.  Ribs, pork ribs, delicious pork ribs.  I don't eat ribs often, if I do quite enjoy them.  They are, as my friend suggested, pricy at restaurants.  And, even in stores.  Which, from time to time, adds to the flavor.  In some ways I would hate to be rich.  There is no sacrifice in eating some things, save as trying, or pretending, to be humble about it all.  For most of us, a special meal is a bit of a sacrifice.  As it should be, I suppose.  Along with the ribs, a salad, and some of the creamiest potato salad I have ever had.  I like all sorts of potato salad, if I usually make mine a bit dry, with a touch of mustard and dill.  This was far from dry, but not out of bounds into too wet.  A perfect match for the ribs.

They wanted to know what I thought.  And I will tell them.  If asked, especially specifically, I give honest assessments.  Sure, I can be polite, and often choose that way.  As I said, though, when requested, I can and will give an honest assessment.  At least this assessment will be easy to hand out.  And, I am extra picky about meats.  My favorite consumable.  Flavor is only one part, the chew and texture, how well the fat is rendered in the meat, how well it is done, and some other things, perhaps, go into my evaluation.  This time it is just a general overall assessment.  I will give that.

I cooked for my last woman.  She was picky, finicky, and dramatic.  And, sometimes, she said she hated it, even so.  At first that bothered me, until I noted she was quite generously gorging on it, and gaining weight.  *grin*  Better yet, she hated gaining weight but couldn't quite pull back from the table fast enough to stop that.  I even, for a while, presented less fattening fair on the side, for her leisure.  That always, even if sumptuous, just couldn't compete with my personal main courses of meat.  What can I say, I'm a meat lover.  I even tried to make only enough of the good stuff for me, to 'encourage' her to eat her damned tofu or other queer fair, made just for her highness.  Nope.  Oh but I enjoyed pointing out the facts.  Facts don't mean much to a woman.  Which, I used just as deftly as any other data point anyway.  But I do like to cook, so it was no skin off my nose.  Saved me having to eat all vegetables or other... stuff.  As long as she did the dishes and a goodly part of the shopping, as with any woman, and according to my preferred stocks, I'll cook.  I'll even share the kitchen, if she likes.  I'd love a partner out there.  Only one chef at a time though, the other is the sous chef de jour, takes orders, peels potatoes or dices the radishes...  Plenty of meals, so there is time to take turns.  The kitchen is one of the few places in which I don't mind if she is on top or bottom. 

Just... ruminating as the day comes to a close.  I have the doors and windows open.  It is starting to get cool, if I doubt that it will get cold.  I'd love to finish getting the faucet out but I don't think that will happen.  Done.  Maybe not tomorrow either.  Don't know, won't know until then.  Clearing the patio and my earlier work just... well... I do what I can.  Hmm, trash day though.  And I really ought to get that out.  Yes, really.  I'm going to focus, with what I have, on getting the trash out.  No promises.  Just a touch of hope and focus.

Later or good night.