Follow by Email

Thursday, April 28, 2011

The Artichoke

Several people asked when I was going to write a  sequel, and I wondered, " How I can write anything as exciting as the last story?"  Then I got to thinking, there are so many embarrassing stories I can tell on myself! 

First, I'll explain the name of my blog, Rose Colored Glasses.  Not only do I tend to see the glass as half-full, sometimes I really believe it will overflow!  This can be a good thing.  I tend to see the bright side of things.  I always look around and think, "It could be worse".  This can also be a bad thing.  Like when I took Michelle to Cripple Creek for her birthday and I only intended to gamble twenty dollars, and then was so sure I would win that I spent every last dollar I had in my purse.  Not a ton of money, but on the drive home I had serious "buyer's remorse" and kept trying to justify it by telling Michelle things like, "Well, I would have spent this much if I had gone shopping for clothes."  to which she answered, "Yeah, but then you would have new clothes to show for it." 

Okay, the artichoke.  I was in the produce section the other day and artichokes were on sale.  I have only had artichoke once, 30+ years ago.  I thought it was so delicious, and thought I would cook one sometime, they seemed complicated, so I just never did.  Well, when Randy and I got married he only ate these vegetables: corn, green beans, peas, spinach, and asparagus. In 30 years of marriage I have introduced him to squash (learned to like), fried okra (likes), broccoli (tolerates), cauliflower (tolerates), brussel sprouts (His exact words were, "Please don't ever make those little green things again."), and beets (tolerates).  I decided to buy an artichoke (I'm a sucker for a sale).  I cooked it like my Betty Crocker cookbook said, except I didn't add the clove of garlic to the water (didn't seem necessary).  I placed it on the plate with pride and explained to Randy that you don't eat the entire leaf, you just scrape the "meat"  from the underside.  He said something like, "What's the point?" and quietly, skeptically watched as I put the first leaf in my mouth.  It tasted terrible!  I said, "Yuck" and oh how he laughed.  I'm sure he was thinking, "Here she is trying to sell me on this weird food and she doesn't even like it!" He did try a few bites, because he is a good sport.  I really don't know if it was a bad artichoke, bad cooking, or what, but I don't think I'll go to all that trouble again.

Michelle suggested I blog about the time Randy accidentally stuck the vaccination needle in my leg after giving a calf a shot.  I've also promised to blog about Bret and I almost missing our plane at DIA.  So stay tuned; those stories are next in line.


  1. I only like artichoke hearts from a jar. Let someone else go through the trouble of cooking them for me to eat. When Gil and I were first married I put things in front of him that even our dog refused to eat.. No wonder we were thinner then.

  2. michelle's comment above makes me think that she is not as ethusiastic about the overflowing-half-full glass perspective, hmmm? :)