St. Patty's Wrapup

Hopefully, you all had a wonderful St. Patrick's Day. After last year's cold rainy Saturday, God back around to loving the St. Patrick's Day parade in Baton Rouge. We got our usual beautiful Saturday, where you can be cold in the morning and sunburned by evening.

The only downside to the day was that Vanya came up sick, leading to a day spent mostly asleep and mostly miserable. Because of this, I got not so much as a picture of his annual custom shirt, which this year read, "Irish sober people had adopted me." It was further decorated with a couple of shamrocks, one of which was frowning.

	Tomatillo Marys are similar to a Bloody Mary, but they use fresh tomatillos instead of tomato juice. With Mrs. theskinnyonbenny's, you can taste fresh cilantro and limes, and the pepper infused vodka gives it a kick. I started my day with four of these.

I also came up with a t-shirt for myself: "Irish you drunk motherfuckers would go home." And for Mrs. theskinnyonbenny: "Irish I was as clever as my husband." Alas, the division of duties put her in charge of T-shirts, and she chose to forgo custom shirts for the adults.

The day stared with a surprise arrival by Stacie and Mark, in from Dallas for the big day. Mrs. theskinnyonbenny was finishing her fresh tomatillo-based bloody marys, and they were fantastic.

I tended to go sit with Vanya while he was awake, and as a result, I stayed more sober than usual, and even managed to fit in a couple of 10-minute naps. In fact, I was sober enough that even at the end of the night, I failed to photograph my genitals on the camera that was left behind. I'm not saying that the camera's photo sensor was completely unmolested, but there's nothing on its memory chip that I wouldn't be willing to post on this site. Keep an eye on the daily photos.

It also helped out a lot that I didn't cook (at least not on Saturday). Jim took over crawfish duties, and I admit, when I saw how much cayenne he put in the pot, I was a little scared. But it turned out absolutely perfect. Some of the best seasoned crawfish that I've had. There were also sweet potatoes in the mix, which I've never done at all. That too was delicious.

One of my favorite things in boil is cut up pieces of sausage. But not having the luck of the Irish, I twice got sausage bites that featured a little tiny bone chip. To top it off, we went to The Chimes with Stace and Mark on Sunday night, and one of the sausage bites in my red beans also had a bone chip. Am I just suddenly more sensitive to an integral part of the sausage-eating experience, or is Baton Rouge inundated with nasty sausage? I really need to know this answer, but either way, I'm probably done with sausage for a while.