We watched the Prime Time Emmys last night and were pleasantly surprised that it didn't suck. Neil Patrick Harris was a terrific host, and there was a great deal of self referential humor and meta-humor that played on all the aspects of awards shows that make them long and boring. For example, the president of the academy was introduced and then thanked for not speaking. There were no presenters of presenters, and some presenters presented more than one award at a time. There was a clock that showed how far behind schedule the show was. Winners with multiple people were limited to one speaker, and all the winners kept their remarks short and sometimes funny. 30 Rock ruled the evening.
I went to the podiatrist on Thursday and found out my heel problem is plantar fasciitis. I got a shot of cortisone right in my heel and a prescription for arch supports. The podiatrist wrote down the diagnosis so I could "Google it". That way he didn't have tell me that the root cause of the problem was my being a fat ass. Later, I visited my proctologist and set up a colonoscopy for this coming Thursday. I swear there must be a gravitational anomaly at the scale in her office.
We drove to Kingston on Saturday to get local, grass fed, organic meat at Fleischer's and to take in the farmers' market. We got some cheeses and bread, some nectarines and brussels sprouts, and some comb honey. We bought a month's worth of meat. We also had lunch at a delightful French restaurant, Le Canard Enchaine. Lunch there will now become part of our monthly Kingston routine.
Among the things we acquired at Fleischer's was a brisket. They had stocked up for the Jewish holidays, although I don't know if the place is kosher. We don't care, since we're not Jews, and if we were Jews we'd probably be secular bacon eating Jews like most Jews we know. Anyway, Mrs Vache Folle brushed on a mix of broth and barbecue sauce, and we cooked the thing at 275 degrees for over five hours. At an hour before it was done, we threw in a mess of taters, carrots and 'shrooms. The meat was practically falling apart and melted in our mouths. The leftovers have been callling to me.
I did a lot of mucking this weekend now that the water level in the pond is very low. Mrs Vache Folle, as part of mucking avoidance, harvested and processed a lot of vegetables from the garden. She found a pretty good recipe for turnips, and we used the carrots in the brisket. We'll have to give away squashes and chard, if we can get any takers. I need to pull out at least 50 more wheelbarrow loads of muck, and there's lots more to harvest from the garden.
We still don't have a choir director, so I haven't been singing in church. I haven't even been attending services. I don't know what the plan is for the choir, but I'll be very disappointed if the church goes all contemporary, all the time and dispenses with the chancel choir. Frankly, I'd have to change churches or just spend some time church-free. The music program is that important to me.