The Other Half is a huge fan of a certain SachinTendulkar.
I am infamous for having cooked and served up a lavish feast the day he bid adieu to cricket. The OH did full justice to the feast (I had made his favourite sweets) but kept scowling at me. Just to show his disapproval.
This morning he told me how SRT overcame a tennis elbow and continued to play.
I pointed out a few things.
He got paid. Regardless of a duck or a century, he got paid.
He didn't have to get breakfast ready under a deadline for a bunch of whiners.
Or debate how lunch menus were always skewed in favour of the other person.
He didn't have to deal with a refrigerator that died without giving appropriate notice, and a desperate rush to re-home as much of its contents as possible.
And the OH started to describe SRT's handling of his bat... with a tennis elbow. (He's not playing tennis!!)
And he' quite upset when I told him just where SRT could place with his bat, with the aid of that afflicted elbow.
And I am so tempted to run away and join some cult
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Disclaimer: This post may contain information that is unsuitable for persons with no sense of humor or irrational epicurean beliefs. The opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of my family and friends, not necessarily mine, and probably not at all necessary.
Today’s post is likely to be touchy and uncomfortable. I will express my views on colour. I will put forth my views on white-ness .... of idlis
Early this morning I came across A friend’s comments on vegetable infused idli batter.
Not that there’s anything wrong with it, as Seinfeld would say, but idli has to be fluffy... and white! Compare it with another southern staple, the dhoti/veshti/panche/mundu.... you can have it any shade, but for real swag and style, it needs to be sparkling white.