This is day 7 of renovations at my home as I get set to welcome some very special people into my life.  Renovation ripple has struck of course – a relatively simple exercise has turned into a weeklong (and counting) marathon.

Basically for the last week I have been surviving on 3 or 4 hours sleep, Gatorade (it’s hot in the attic) and Big A** Sandwiches.  You know the ones I mean – you can pick them up at Safeway and they probably tip the scales at about 5 pounds.

After many years of bachelorhood, I have learned to survive for a month or more on a basic staple – whatever it may be.  Some months it’s omelettes – others, grilled cheese sandwiches – and so on.

But when push comes to shove – and there are helpful friends to be fed – I default to the Big A** Sandwich.  It’s so simple, so easy, and I don’t have to try to find the kitchen through the dust.

Normally, my buddies are just happy for some sort of caloric intake.  But I have become increasingly concerned about the lowered response level of the feedbag announcement each evening.  There was a time that my serving call for Big A** Sandwiches was met with an enthusiastic response – “All right, Big A** Sandwiches!”  Lately, it’s been more along the lines of “Hmmm, Big A** Sandwiches.”  A subtle, but important distinction.

Fortunately, this precarious situation has come to the attention of my neighbour, Kate.  Rumour has it that around 6 pm, there will be some piping hot, homemade lasagne delivered to my back door.  It doesn’t get much better than that.

It is, of course, a temporary solution.  If you have any suggestions for the food for buddies working program, please pass them on to me…

Passing the mustard…  Dave