Midnight Musings

Today is my boss' birthday. I baked brownies for him because the last time I made them, he had three of them before they were even cool enough to be cut. I think it's fair to assume that he liked them. It amazes me when people are surprised to get home-baked goodies. When I brought in the first batch of brownies, someone assumed I'd used a mix. I would have considered that to be rude but maybe I'm just too finicky. On the other hand, buying a cake from a bakery is entirely appropriate, if not as loving. What do you think?

'night.

As I was looking over my outbound Christmas gifts, it dawned on me that what I'm giving is really no indication of what I'm about or what the recipients mean to me. I like to make gifts (this year, it's chocolate truffles, jam and refrigerator magnets) and they are fun and/or enjoyable but, honestly, of what use are they? They either contribute excess calories or collect dust. "I love you. Here's some junk food. Have some clutter, too. Kiss, kiss." I don't know what else could be given instead other than tickets to something, clothing, artwork, beauty items, tools or kitchen gadgets (which could also fall into the clutter category, depending on the interest of the receiving party). Man, I hope no one else sees them the way I do, now.

Sigh. 'night.

My son called me on his cell phone and we had a horrible connection.

I heard, "...it...bu...kye...tuna." I told him I couldn't hear and to repeat it.
Again, broken up fragments.
I said, "Are you saying, 'tuna'?"
"Yes. bu...kye...tuna...'k."
"All I hear is 'tuna'."
"I moved closer to the door. Is this better?"
"Yes. Are you calling me about tuna??"
"Yes. I need to know what kind of tuna I like."

If only we could put a price tag on those minutes we can never recover.