More on Sunday.

Small house. Small kitchen. Crabby chef. 200 pounds of dogs in the kitchen and two cats who waltz in front of you as you walk, make cooking a challenge, I'll admit. So - I put down the puzzle and run up to the office so I don't have to hear the grumblings of the fuming chef.

Part of the problem is/was breakfast. He decided to make sourdough corn fritters. They were not so hot. He told me they had a surprise inside. I took a bite and thought one of my teeth fell out. Not to worry, it was a corn kernel. I just wish he could make a pancake..plain and simple -- no surprise inside.

One of the things in life I detest is mixing sweets with vegetables. Hate carrot cake and don't like corn in a pancake. Wouldn't like onion ice cream either which he will probably find a recipe for and when I least expect it - whip up a couple of gallons. Is this classic passive-aggressiveness?

My husband isn't particularly adventurous..so why does he have to muck up food? He likes to cook, which is a plus...but he cooks oddball things I don't like. Now he's making a chicken pot pie. I see he's got a slew of mushrooms sitting on the counter. I don't like mushrooms in my chicken pot pie. I'll eat them if they're there, but I like the simple carrot, onion, celery, potato chicken pot pie. What will he use to cover it I wonder? Tortillas? No...that's for sure. He really doesn't want them in the house. He hates them and calls them "wraps" with a furrowed brow and lots of disdain in his voice.

God help me if he covers up the chicken pot pie with the left over corn fritters...!!

You didn't ask, but one of the things I am most proud of is I wrote a novel. Two hundred plus pages...a beginning, middle and an end. I haven't read it in 10 years but I think I'm going to dig it out. I still remember one line I wrote that I loved. Something like this: She kept smoothing her fingernail as if it had become wrinkled on the trip.

Doesn't sound so hot in the blog, but sparkled in the novel.

I am also proud of one nude I have hanging in my living room. It is a pastel and I drew/painted it about 10 years ago...very productive time for me in my life. She has her knee on a chair and there's a one inch square of the chair seat that is gorgeous. The painting as a whole is okay or I wouldn't allow it to be hung up...but that little area of the seat is really what I had wanted to be able to accomplish in the whole piece.

I love using pastels but the dust is unbearable. My house is too small to add in so much particulate matter into the already overtaxed air. My animals bring in pounds of dirt, dander and debris and it's a constant battle trying to keep this place somewhat clean. Dirt may be dirt, but pastel dirt is way too technicolor to go unnoticed.

I'm fairly good at writing; fairly good at art and fairly good at playing the piano. Do you think three fairlys would make up one very? I've always wondered what would have happened if I had been talentless except for one area. Would I have been able to achieve a degree of success?

Probably not. I'm way to laid back for success. I really enjoy living...love my computer - love being able to look anything up at any time and find an answer. I love reading and old movies and cooking (only when I'm in the mood) and junk food and laughter and purring cats and beer.