Nanook, Ice Princess of the North

I confess, last year was an epic failure for holiday greetings. I could lay out my arguments about why I didn’t meet the appointed deadline, how I thought I’d turn them into New Year’s notes, Valentine Days sweeties, Easter greetings but Fourth of July cards just seemed so wrong. So let’s all pretend they got lost in the mail and just start anew and focus on blogs.

The Big Tuna and I returned to the motherland for our second nuptials of the year. I have unfurled my numb fingers and blue lips to craft my weekly adventures to the land of big hair and fake tans. As much as I love Team Tuna the months July and December do not strike me as the most amazing wedding seasons but I manned up with my mittens and earmuffs and headed East.

The first challenge was naturally to find a winter coat. You would think the layer of fat I’ve put on since my last frosty journey 10 years ago would have kept me cozy, but in the Valley of the Sun they only sell faux frocks. I had to pay bazillion dollars for a coat I won’t wear again until I’m too plump to buckle it. On the plane my sweet hubby offered to keep me warm by participating in the “mile high club”. Yeah, sweet. Except we both had aisle seats in the cattle car section and it would blocked the drink cart.

I anxiously watched the weather forecast and reassured myself that tennis shoes with a cocktail dress would be perfectly acceptable at a black tie event since I didn’t own real winter boots. It was guaranteed I would drape banquet table cloths around my legs if I felt any drafts. I fell into a full fledged panic attack when viewing Modern Mom’s 1st Vlog post showing 2 feet of snow. I officially hate her, she is so perky and adorable, and it makes me feel like a giant walrus on the ice. Okay, maybe I don’t really hate her it would be too much like kicking Bambi. I hope she didn’t have to resort to eating one of her young to survive.

Next I heard a rumor that two of our nephews had chicken pox. This would be routine, expect that are in their TWENTIES. As a full fledge germ phobic I refused to arrange a meet up dinner at their house much to their dismay. I am one of those people that carry around their own hand sanitizer and send staff home if they sneeze outside my office. Truth be told, my mom said I’d had the pox when Sheldon came down with it as a tot but since I couldn’t remember I wasn’t taking any chances. Fortunately their pediatrician cleared them to attend the wedding at the last minute. In honor of the Tuna family, this week’s recipe is Tuna Casserole.

Tuna Casserole
1 pound cooked medium pasta shells
2 cans tuna drained and flaked
2 cans cream of mushroom soup
1 cup peas-optional
½ cup bread crumbs
1 cups shredded cheddar cheese

Mix pasta, tuna, soup and peas in a casserole dish. I consider peas optional because I really dislike them; they remind me of bloated ticks. Sprinkle top with bread crumbs and cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. We ate so much of this when we were first married because it was cheap that the Big Tuna has refused to eat it in 20 years.

I’d forgotten the excitement of driving on the Garden State Parkway, your 4 lanes of traffic spread out to 87 toll booth lanes where you throw you coins in a bucket and merge together on the backside. As a faithful Nascar observer the Big Tuna was in his element. He viewed the tailgating as drafting the toll booths as pit stops. Thankfully I had perpetual brain freeze since it was so cold and blocked it all out. As far as I’m concerned if I never see another snowflake it will be too soon.