Providence House is falling down...my fat lady?

Following up on our previous post.  It appears that perhaps we are thinking too much about food.  For example, consider this:

Homemade ice cream sandwiches

and its relation to this:

Slithy Tove's unfortunate event this morning

Now it isn't just Slithy Tove who is having trouble.  Recently, the Providence House Think Tank purchased an appliance from that all-too-reliable-and-definitely-honest free market known as Craig's List.  In the past, purchases from this consumer forum have been great deals.  However, our good luck had run out, something this unfortunate washer attempted several times.  There are few home appliances more miserable than a run-away Maytag.

Unfortunately, it didn't qualify in weight for the Derby this year.

For the optimist in all of us, it was a great bargain; a washer and dryer set, lightly used, for only $320.  Moreover, we weren't aware that this washer came with a new cycle that was unique to this model only: the Bull  Ride Spin Cycle.  Slithy Tove holds the current record for staying on the longest.  Mome Rath and Jub Jub were not amused.  Mome Rath, in a "rit of fealous jage", cursed it and smashed its control knob.  Lesson to be learned: do not trifle with Mome Rath when dirty diapers are on the line. (ba-dum.......cymbal noise)

This washer has now been sent to the That Big Range Up in the Sky.  So long Hoss!

You are how you eat.

We are now called the Providence House Think Tank.  Our mission is to think deep thoughts so you don't have to.  To give you an idea of our ruminations we designed, with the help of several government-funded studies (thank you tax payers!), an accessible pie chart to show our diverse and non-discriminatory thought topics.

Clearly, food is an important topic.  We think about it pretty darn near constantly.  Some of us even dream of new recipes at night.  Food is, after all, one of the things that makes life worth living, right? and the Think Tank is all about finding new ways to live the Good Life in all its aspects, so that we can share it with you.  

    So we devoted an entire evening to food.  

We didn't exactly plan it that way.  It all began when we went to Fort Worth to visit our friend Joe, the Historian from the lost city of Atlanta, and we ran into some difficulties about where to dine.  Most of the difficulties arose because of Beamish Boy and his persnickety attitude toward evening engagements.  After mulling over several options, we decided that Central Market would be our best choice.  Yes, it's a grocery store, but it offers the best grazing in town (Sam's Club and Costco don't quite fit the bill for a special occasion).

     We arrived a little early for fashionable dining, so we had a delightful cocktail hour wandering through the different food departments and sampling the diverse fare.  Our beer list comprised an entire refrigerator section of malted glory.  After a while, the samples proving only to arouse rather than appease hunger, we moved toward the round plate glass shrine of foods, circling like hungry pilgrims in a cathedral ambulatory.  We had to circle a few times, due to the great variety of tastiness on display, before deciding on sandwiches.  A few minutes later, we were outside, happily enjoying delicious sandwiches and the newest thing from the New Belgium brewery.  Many great conversation points later, we re-entered the market and emerged with refreshing gelato in a rainbow of colors.  All this was sans waitstaff, which was even better.  Sure, we had to bus our own table, but it was well worth it not to have to deal with lackluster service.  

   Many people at this point would have considered it a job well done and returned home.  Not so the Thinkers.  The night was young.  So, we went to the newest nightclub in town, a place run by people in Hawaiian shirts.  That's right, you guessed it: it was that hip happenin' hangout, Trader Joe's.  We stayed till closing time; the music was just that good, and the strawberry lemonade samples flowed freely.  Unfortunately, Beamish Boy is a party pooper in the fullest sense of the word, and our evening was dramatically cut short.

On reflection, we realize that our Night on the Town mainly consisted in a form of legalized petty shoplifting.  We know this is generally frowned upon as a characteristic of a certain class of society who dwell in homes distinguished by their mobility.  Our conclusion to this profound thought?  Maybe there is double fun in a double wide.

Check out our favorite realtor.  

Update: breaking news!  Jub Jub got caught!  JK, we don't like Redi-Whip THAT much.

The 24 Hours of Earth Day

We know that every 7 minutes that we don't post, we lose 284 followers.  Our blogposts are read less often than people watch Barney reruns from the 90's.  So, we have put fingers to keyboard to distill for you the essence of the vast amount of raw thinking that goes on in Providence House Think Tank.
  First, we shall begin with a joke:

    Knock knock.
    Who's There?
    No one.
    No one who?
    No one reads your blog!

  And now, for breaking news.

As you know, we are all great lovers of the earth here at Providence House. While some of you restrict Earth Day to April 22, we celebrate it year round by returning a wealth of slimy, decomposing vegetables, coffee grounds, and all manner of foods so furry as to be unrecognizable to the earth in a daily ritual.  This is the Circle of Life.  And it had been going on uninterruptedly for some time until Earth Day observed, when it was rudely disturbed.  On this day, which happened to be the day when Slithy Tove was home alone, S.T. looked out of the window and saw a gang of children running around in the side yard.  At first, feelings of indignation against trespassing urchins reigned.  They were picking up the trash that,  thanks to the strong Lindsay winds, collects in that area.  Suddenly, with cries of disgust, they stood aghast beneath the kitchen window.  S.T. drew closer to see what had caused this consternation, and saw that they were gathered around the compost heap.  Apparently, they had never seen real recycling.  In their confusion, they attempted to remove the offending matter, which they identified as "trash," so that it could be taken away to a landfill.  While they were in the midst of stealing our precious compost (one man's trash is another man's treasure) a teacher pointed out their mistake.  Meanwhile, Slithy Tove attempted to keep out of sight while laughing.  It would seem that we are too earthy for Earth Day.

  And now for a confession (collective sigh of remorse):

Once upon a time, Slithy Tove, Jub Jub, and Mome Rath, (and occasionally Beamish Boy) sat themselves on the couch for an idle hour of vegetating.  Through no fault of their own, they were sucked into a time vortex and emerged 24 hours later with 20% fewer brain cells and a haunting fear of counting down digital clocks.  Like millions of other Americans, they had suffered through Season 1 of the show "24".  It was the longest day of their lives.

The premise in a nut shell: 

My name is Jack Bauer (cue action music), terrorists are plotting to assassinate a presidential candidate.  My wife and daughter have been kidnapped, and people I work with may be involved in both.  In the next twenty four hours my voice will get extremely annoying because it's dry, my wife and daughter will act like complete ditzes, the writers will debate how to wrap up loose ends, and the day will come to a completely dissatisfying conclusion. 

And yet, as frustrating as the show was (Jub Jub and Slithy Tove became Delphic Oracles of each character development), the ticking clock ending each episode seemed to draw them on inexorably to the next. As the show heaved its last melodramatic sigh, JJ, MR, and ST were left in complete exasperation...

So they started Season 2