This and That

I just gave Mary some Limburger cheese. Ugh! Stinky! I finally got myself to taste some, thinking that maybe it didn’t taste like it smelled—wrong! It tasted exactly like it smelled! Angie loves to tell about how once when I was about five or six, she and Grandma pulled out some Limburger cheese, and I just stood there for a minute or so and then suddenly said, “I gotta go now,” and took off. She said they just died laughing because they knew it was the smell, even though I didn’t say anything.

Speaking of Angie, here’s a typical exchange between us, which will show why we don’t get along.
Me: (after noticing that Angie had once again put the sponge in the sink, which majorly annoys me—I expect people to see what I do and imitate my perfection!) Ange, do you purposely put the sponge in the sink? Cause that really annoys me, to have to reach in the sink and pick up a wet sponge.
Angie: What?
Me: I always lay the sponge up here and I keep finding it in the sink. It gets wet and it’s really yucky to pick up when it’s cold and wet.
Angie: I don’t know. I’ve never had a sponge. I don’t know anything about sponges. I don’t like them. I think they’re dirty—they’re full of bacteria.
I keep my mouth shut this time but often I would have reminded her that just the last time she was there she was saying how much she liked the sponge at the sink and wanted to get one herself. It was, actually, one of her typical remarks that lead me to give her something, which I always kick myself for afterwards. I mean, I remember telling her that we had an extra one that she could have, but she must not have heard me.
I admit it—we’re both at fault. I guess we’re just like oil and water…

Did I tell you that I’ve been making yogurt the last few weeks? I’ve always tried to get Mary to eat yogurt that I’ve bought at the grocery—strawberry or vanilla flavored, but she always said it tasted awful to her and she couldn’t eat it. I’d never made yogurt—I remember Mom making it and it seemed like this sour, runny white stuff. I discovered Mary’s yogurt maker out in the garage (along with a broken ice cream maker, which I’m still considering whether it’s worth paying to fix), so I decided to try it. Guess what—she’s eating it like a little piggy! And so am I! And it’s nonfat! How great is that, huh?

A friend of Mary’s has a sister who wants to get rid of one of her cats because she’s moving. It sounds like a great deal: female, spayed, five years old, front declawed, loves to sit on your lap, with litter box and carrier. She’s kind of a tiger-looking one, which isn’t my favorite but Mary seems to be gaga over her. However, the lady’s son might want the cat. She’s moving at the end of March, so we’ll just have to wait.