Sick and Alone in Ada

While my husband is off overseas in Italy working, I am home alone...sick. This just sucks. Nose is running like a water faucet, lips are drier than the Sahara, and my throat feels like I've swallowed nails for fun. At least I have my dogs for entertainment. They are unique puppies that can keep anyone entertained. Grant it, their constant need for attention gets to be a little annoying after a while, but the annoyance is shortlived. They make mistakes, which is bound to happen, and they keep me on my toes. Plus, they provide a sense of security. No one gets through the house without passing inspection from the puppies.

For now, I get to curl on the couch under the glow of my laptop and conduct work for a little while as a distraction from my ever-growing list of symptoms.

Welcome to Ghetto Truffle!

From Merriam-Webster Online (www.m-w.com):

ghetto (n): an isolated group b : a situation that resembles a ghetto especially in conferring inferior status or limiting opportunity

truffle (n): a candy made of chocolate, butter, sugar, and sometimes liqueur shaped into balls and often coated with cocoa.

You may be scratching your head: "what's with ghetto truffle?" It all started one day while I was whipping up a batch of homemade truffles. My first attempt. To make a long story short, I screwed up when it came to rolling the chocolate into the traditional truffle shape. The chocolate was too firm, so I gave up, broke up the chocolate into chunks and dipped the chunks into the unsweetened chocolate. Given their misshapen shape, my husband declared them "ghetto truffles".

And, being a liberal from the Detroit-area, living in West Michigan, well...