Remember the other day when I resolved to cut back on acquiring books? Neither did I, apparently.
As some of you know, Subterranean Press frequently offers expensive limited edition hardcovers of popular and/or hard to find books. The new prices are a tad expensive and once they sell out, the prices will quickly run you a kidney and half a liver. Over the weekend, I got an email from them about a special offer. It seems they found a metric shit ton of returned or dinged hardcovers and were offering a special grab bag. Eleven hardcovers for fifty bucks. Visions of John Scalzi's The God Engines and You're Not Fooling Anyone When You Take Your Laptop to a Coffee Shop danced through my head, along with the ghosts of ultra-rare Joe Lansdales danced through my head. Yep, I plunked down my 50 bucks and now wait to see if the Rare Book Gods choose to smile on me or urinate in my upturned face.
In other news, I've acquired a taste for meatloaf in my old age. The food, not the musician with his songs that are ten minutes too long. Anyway, Joe had some particularly aromatic meatloaf the other day and gave me a small morsel. It was delicious. I asked for the recipe and he replied that he'd have to ask his wife. She emailed back a short time later saying, and I quote, "I'll take it to the grave."
Ouch. That's a pretty harsh reaction to asking for a recipe. Then again, Joe's been asking for her grandma's Swiss Steak recipe for six years and has only gotten a marginal coleslaw recipe for his troubles. This morning, Joe showed up at my cube fairly early and asked what I brought for lunch. I said "Nothing" since I hate assembling things for lunch, like the fajitas I have in the fridge at home. He told me I had a lunch waiting in the lower right drawer of the fridge in the galley.
The meatloaf was superb. It was a mix of ordinary ground beef, ground pork, and veal, along with onions and some ingredients I was unable to identify as I wolfed it down. I suppose I could have taken my time and savored it but it was too good.