Feeling Blue

I was feeling a little bit blue the other day for a variety of reasons -- car repairs, house repairs, autumn, shorter days, jobs... So my husband and I decided to head out to happy hour.

There's a little pub that we hang out at regularly. We've been going there for years and have a group of friends we hang out with there. I was hoping to run into a couple of them.

Shortly after arriving, we found out one friend is having legal difficulties and another had a family member die in a horrible house fire. Both situations made me rethink my worries and put things in perspective.

So I've spent a small fortune on car repairs and have some house repairs yet to handle. And my husband's and my job concerns are nothing when I think about the friends of mine who have lost their jobs. And when you think of the other losses our friends have experienced, my troubles and concerns are insignificant.

So, though we went out because I was feeling a little blue, I did not come back feeling better. However, I am feeling thankful that I have the problems I have, and though they are somewhat annoying and can be tough, I'm able to handle them (so far).

Whiskey in a Milkshake?

Today I saw the online headline, "Who put the Whiskey in my Milkshake?" Though it ended up being a legitimate story about milkshake recipes that contain Bourbon, it brought back memories -- weird memories of growing up with three older brothers.

One day before junior high school, I decided to have Shredded Wheat for breakfast -- the large biscuits that were much bigger than a Brillo pad, but looked like they were made the same way. Because it was pretty cold outside, I decided to warm up the milk. This was before microwave ovens, so I put about a cup of milk in a saucepan and ran upstairs for a second.

When I got back downstairs, I poured the warm milk on my cereal and began to eat. The weird thing is that all three of my brothers were at the table eating -- we didn't normally all end up eating at the same time. With the first bite I noticed that the milk didn't taste right. "Does the milk taste bad to you?" I asked. They all said it tasted fine to them.

After a couple more bites, I was positive there was something wrong with the milk. "The milk is spoiled," I announced. "I'm throwing this out." The reaction from my brothers was immediate. They said stuff like, "You can't throw that out, Mom will be mad." They continued to tell me I was wasting food, etc., but I threw it out anyway. I have no idea what I ate instead.

Flash forward to several years later. Someone brought up this insignificant breakfast morning at a family event. It went something like, "Do you remember when you heated milk for your Shredded Wheat and the milk tasted spoiled?" Confused I said I knew what they were talking about. "When you were upstairs, we poured Dad's Scotch in your milk."

Yeah, just what I needed -- Scotch for breakfast.

So, from experience I can tell alcohol in milk does not work. And if Scotch is bad in milk, I can't imagine Bourbon would be any better in a milkshake.