Casa De Morrill

This past weekend, Sean’s parents made a trip over to Huntsvegas for Easter weekend. They meandered their way over on Saturday afternoon and stayed through Sunday afternoon. Saturday night, my parents had everyone over for shrimp creole. As usual, it was quite tasty, although lacking a good kick of spice. For dessert that night, mom recruited Sean and me to make beignets. That was interesting. My mom has this deep fryer that supposedly goes to 370 degrees. I was able to prove them wrong using a simple meat thermometer. Oh well. The beignets still came out pretty tasty and about half of them puffed up (you need the really hot oil usually to get them to properly puff up).

Sunday was my turn to host the day’s major meal. We had Easter lunch over at Sean’s and my place. We had spent a good chunk of the weekend cleaning the apartment and even went out and bought four new chairs for the apartment to replace the uncomfortable ladderbacks. I had found a good recipe for a ham roast and decided to give that a try. It’s certainly not smoked ham or anything like what you would buy in the store normally, but it apparently went over really, really well, considering I might have enough leftovers for a couple sandwiches. I do have a big bone, though, and that will go into some very yummy red beans.

My only problem with the weekend was that my parents ambushed me with wedding talk. They waited until they were about to leave to bring it up, thinking that I had let down my guard by then and perhaps they would be able to get me to concede and have the wedding in Huntsville. Sean finally told them to quit and I told them that I would really appreciate it if they would just respect Sean’s and my wishes on wherever we choose to have the wedding. Here’s hoping, but I’m not counting on it. I don’t mind them helping out with the wedding and helping us make decisions, in fact I welcome any help I can get. But, I do mind them trying to make decisions for me. In the end, it’s Sean’s and my wedding and I would like to remember it like that and not the war between my mother’s and my ideals for a wedding. What is it going to take to get that through to her?