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Today I am going to make stuffed peppers for dinner, prepare things for Fat Tuesday tomorrow night, and maybe make a cake or something.
Tomorrow is the day to eat all the meat you can, have a few extra drinks and then pass out because then it is Ash Wednesday and it is a sober day for all. No fun. Must fast, go to mass, eat fish sticks that are blech and wander about with a smudge on your forehead.
Okay so I am being a bit silly.
When I was growing up, Fat Tuesday was when we kids were given steak for dinner which was rare (and I am not talkin' about how the steak was cooked..har har...hrm) because there wasn't a lot of money to spend on doing things like feeding small children steak very often. But we loved it. We would have steak, sausage, french fries, stewed tomatoes (I think that was an attempt at looking like we were eating vegetables, I loved them) and usually something sweet after dinner.
The next day it was going to mass, getting your very own smudge and then having either tuna noodle casserole (which would be good if my Mom made it) or fish sticks. Damn fish sticks. I have long believed that it isn't dogma that makes people leave the church, it is limp fish sticks and lousy tuna noodle casserole.
The thing about not eating meat on certain holy days is for some crazy reason you crave it more. We would have days where we wouldn't eat meat but it wasn't a big deal. Maybe limp fish sticks make you crave meat.
When I got older we would do things during lent like start cooking meat at ten to midnight while watching Letterman and then once it hit midnight we would start eating sausages,eat steak or bacon sandwiches.
I don't know where that perversion comes from. I come from a family of night-owls who if were allowed would stay up late all night long and become like dracula. I am not making fun mind you because I happily join in on this sort of fun. "It's midnight let's have french cheese, crackers, and sausages." Then we would find ourselves watching late night television, arguing about who was in some movie, and generally bitching about people.
This is life with artistic insomniacs. My brother Tom who if allowed would be John Barrymore (minus the drinking problem) becomes very intense talking about acting, films, and a cheese sandwich he had last week. I sometimes worry that he will have a stroke. All of my family is like that so it makes for some interesting observations I am sure for an outsider. Especially for Mr. Jenner. I have them over and we all start talking a million miles a minute, and it is a bit like some Kauffman and Hart play to some degree because there is a sense of eccentricity among everyone though it isn't the kind that everyone is so self-aware of like you find with pretentious writers. Everyone cracks off something witty or teases someone about some particular trait. My sister has a talent for shrewd little comments about people and while they are often hysterically funny they have sharp sense of truth. It does pain her a great deal when people say how cute she is and how funny she is, because they act like it is this rare accomplishment, "Not only is she attractive but she can wave bye-bye too." I think that acid tongue of hers will put a few in their place. She is still incredibly funny. She points out it doesn't help a damn bit because the boys still see her as just a friend. There lies the true pain of being a fifteen year old girl. Gorgeous as hell, smart as a whip and the boys don't see the glamour. It becomes really very funny when my youngest brother (Mike) who has an incredible talent for mimicry begins to do impressions of the family while we are eating. The victim does object a little bit and has a red face because his quick sketch of you is a bit too on the mark. My Mother mostly sits and knits, tells the gossip about Port Townsend, likes to speak of interesting bucolic subjects such as; chickens, rabbits, gardening, and sordid lives of people she hears of. She also likes to tell me to "calm the fuck down". (This woman has a talent with swearing the way Robert Frost did with poetry) Most in the family do as they please so it makes for some interesting chatter about who is doing what at a given moment. Everyone's education is a bit vague at times but it isn't like some are skipping school to cater to a cough drop addiction and riding a bus all day. But it seems the family is happy so that is what matters in the end. Even if we have hardly any will-power about meat during lent and getting a decent night's sleep.
Tomorrow is the day to eat all the meat you can, have a few extra drinks and then pass out because then it is Ash Wednesday and it is a sober day for all. No fun. Must fast, go to mass, eat fish sticks that are blech and wander about with a smudge on your forehead.
Okay so I am being a bit silly.
When I was growing up, Fat Tuesday was when we kids were given steak for dinner which was rare (and I am not talkin' about how the steak was cooked..har har...hrm) because there wasn't a lot of money to spend on doing things like feeding small children steak very often. But we loved it. We would have steak, sausage, french fries, stewed tomatoes (I think that was an attempt at looking like we were eating vegetables, I loved them) and usually something sweet after dinner.
The next day it was going to mass, getting your very own smudge and then having either tuna noodle casserole (which would be good if my Mom made it) or fish sticks. Damn fish sticks. I have long believed that it isn't dogma that makes people leave the church, it is limp fish sticks and lousy tuna noodle casserole.
The thing about not eating meat on certain holy days is for some crazy reason you crave it more. We would have days where we wouldn't eat meat but it wasn't a big deal. Maybe limp fish sticks make you crave meat.
When I got older we would do things during lent like start cooking meat at ten to midnight while watching Letterman and then once it hit midnight we would start eating sausages,eat steak or bacon sandwiches.
I don't know where that perversion comes from. I come from a family of night-owls who if were allowed would stay up late all night long and become like dracula. I am not making fun mind you because I happily join in on this sort of fun. "It's midnight let's have french cheese, crackers, and sausages." Then we would find ourselves watching late night television, arguing about who was in some movie, and generally bitching about people.
This is life with artistic insomniacs. My brother Tom who if allowed would be John Barrymore (minus the drinking problem) becomes very intense talking about acting, films, and a cheese sandwich he had last week. I sometimes worry that he will have a stroke. All of my family is like that so it makes for some interesting observations I am sure for an outsider. Especially for Mr. Jenner. I have them over and we all start talking a million miles a minute, and it is a bit like some Kauffman and Hart play to some degree because there is a sense of eccentricity among everyone though it isn't the kind that everyone is so self-aware of like you find with pretentious writers. Everyone cracks off something witty or teases someone about some particular trait. My sister has a talent for shrewd little comments about people and while they are often hysterically funny they have sharp sense of truth. It does pain her a great deal when people say how cute she is and how funny she is, because they act like it is this rare accomplishment, "Not only is she attractive but she can wave bye-bye too." I think that acid tongue of hers will put a few in their place. She is still incredibly funny. She points out it doesn't help a damn bit because the boys still see her as just a friend. There lies the true pain of being a fifteen year old girl. Gorgeous as hell, smart as a whip and the boys don't see the glamour. It becomes really very funny when my youngest brother (Mike) who has an incredible talent for mimicry begins to do impressions of the family while we are eating. The victim does object a little bit and has a red face because his quick sketch of you is a bit too on the mark. My Mother mostly sits and knits, tells the gossip about Port Townsend, likes to speak of interesting bucolic subjects such as; chickens, rabbits, gardening, and sordid lives of people she hears of. She also likes to tell me to "calm the fuck down". (This woman has a talent with swearing the way Robert Frost did with poetry) Most in the family do as they please so it makes for some interesting chatter about who is doing what at a given moment. Everyone's education is a bit vague at times but it isn't like some are skipping school to cater to a cough drop addiction and riding a bus all day. But it seems the family is happy so that is what matters in the end. Even if we have hardly any will-power about meat during lent and getting a decent night's sleep.
