perfect . . .

“…grief is like the wake behind a boat.
It starts out as a huge wave that follows close behind you
and is big enough to swamp and drown you
if you suddenly stop moving forward.
But if you do keep moving, the big wake will eventually dissipate.
And after a long enough time, the waters of your life get calm again,
and that is when the memories of those who have left begin to shine
as bright and enduring as the stars above.”

From Jimmy Buffet’s “A Salty Piece of Land”

thanks for passing it on, Robin.

moo . . .

earlier in the week i wandered downstairs to make sure the doors were locked and the alarm set and realized that the house reeked of garlic.  REEKED!!  Bruschetta!  It's what was for dinner.  Tomatoes, basil, garlic, salt and pepper, marinated all day in olive oil, spooned on toasted french bread slices cut on an angle,  sprinkled with Parmesan and drizzled with balsamic vinegar.  Slurp!

and then Sunday was breaded fried eggplant circles, smeared with herbed goat cheese and topped with basil, marinated in olive oil with crushed red pepper flakes.

not to mention the ever present roasted brussel sprouts and asparagus.

Stacie was over Friday night and I made a mess of sliced zucchini and yellow crook necked squash sauteed with stewed tomatoes and mushrooms, onions and garlic, topped with Parmesan.

I'm in such a lovely rut and it is called vegetables.  They make me such a happy camper. 

Oh and I am still on my quesadilla kick.  Each week I bake a couple of chicken breasts, let them cool and then pull the chicken.  Makes enough for a weeks worth of sammies, quesadillas and salads.  With a drizzle of olive oil in the pan, chicken sprinkled with Adobo seasoning, a handful of spinach heated until the spinach just starts to wilt, a spinach wrap flipped into the pan and sprinkled with mozzarella,  the chicken and spinach tossed back in, the heat turn up to crisp the quesadilla to be cut it into quarters and dipped into anything good.  my current favorite is a smokey but creamy hot sauce.  double slurp. 

and thus i realized that left to my own devices, veggies are my delight . . .  with chicken for protein and lots of cheese.  Cheese glorious cheese.  I took inventory today and there they were:  bleu cheeses, shredded mozzarella, fresh mozzarella, fresh feta, colby, five blend mexican cheese, goat cheese, cottage cheese, a good chunk of Locatelli Pecorino Romano and somewhere stuffed in the back some sliced American cheese . . . Kidlet loves her grilled cheese sammies.

What is saving me from a veggie and cheese implosion?  Kids!!

Kidlet came home from school last night and having lost weight during mid terms, asked for food.  Real food . . . according to her . . . meaning M.E.A.T.   And so tonight, we will feast on moo and steamed artichokes.  And tomorrow night Stacie is joining us for pot-moo with carrots and taters. 

God bless kids.  Life has changed but it is still glorious and filled with love.

when . . .

Kidlet went to college, I thought I would finally have the bathroom to myself.

From the time she could navigate on her own, my days of privacy were numbered.  If I was in the bathroom, she was in the bathroom.  For a while there, if I was in the tub, she was in the tub.  Thankfully, she finally got too big for those shenanigans but the room was always, always doubly occupied. 

When she hit middle school, I thought I would have some peace and quiet.  How wrong I was.  Some of our deepest conversations were held within reach of the porcelain goddess.  Tears were shed, wails heard, hugs given.  The drama of 6th, 7th and 8th grade played out in technicolor within the confines of our upstairs bathroom. 

High school.  In high school surely it would once again become my sanctuary.  Gah!  Again it was not to be.  The 'facilites' became neutral territory where Kidlet grew from childhood to adult.  Secrets were shared, questions asked. Advice flowed . . . some ignored, some taken.  but tranquility?  not so much.

When she went to college, I thought finally.  Finally, it would be mine.  But it seems the 9TS was just biding his time until she left and he could move in.  Whether I was happily soaking, brushing my teeth, or fooling with my hair, the sloth felt no remorse, in he would come.

And now.  Now?  The house is empty.  Peace is mine.  Right? 

 Not, apparently, in this life time.

be careful what you wish for . . .

Joanie and I went furniture hunting for what I thought I wanted.

Turns out it wasn't.  On the pro side, the frame had a 15 year warranty.  They had a slew of fabrics and frame colors from which to choose and most importantly, without cushions, I wouldn't be sitting on puddles after a rain storm.  Cons: the fabric only had a five year guarantee, and it has a tendency to sag.  It wasn't all that comfortable and the price tag was huge.  Gulp.

And so after much deliberation, I decided to keep the usable frames from my old set and just buy new cushions and table tops.  All for a price well under the cost of that which I thought I wanted.  And even under that which I had drooled over last summer at another store.  The wet cushions?  Not a problem, flip them over and they are dry and good to go.  No, we are not getting into how I could have owned the afore mentioned cushions for 14 years and not have realized that.  No. No. No.

Here they are.  Mine will be a darker color.  The better to hide the dirt, my dear.

But since we are just replacing cushions and tops, I also get to keep this:

Minus the umbrella and the scenic lake.

It was a good afternoon outside of the cave.  A very good afternoon and oh yes, they deliver!!!!

om and splash . . .

OK, so life doesn't really suck.  the birds are chirping again.  the weather is three degrees past glorious.  the beasties are cuddle bums and i shouldn't complain.  so i won't.  so there.

since the pool is slowly deciding not to be green, i thought i would go out and clean the deck and get it ready for use . . .  that translates roughly into me reclining on a lounger, book in hand.  i hosed the deck getting it clean enough to rest the soon to be bleached and scrubbed furniture and cushions, before it gets bleached and scrubbed.  i started with the tables . . . encrusted with mold and pollen . . . and that is as far as i got.  last summer, sloth and i decided the furniture had had it.  it was 14 years old and lived a good life.  the only thing that prevented us from getting the furniture we had looked at was the logistics of getting it home.  so we waited.  i can wait no more.  the tables have all but disintegrated.  i put the brakes on cleaning and hopped on the computer instead, visions of outdoor furniture dancing in my head.

today i am going in search.  and hope they deliver.  please deliver.   i am not replacing the table and four chairs.  we just didn't use them enough to justify the expense.  i am however, looking for three loungers and two side tables.  the deck will be less cluttered that way, which means more room for yoga mats and relaxation after water aerobics.  yep, that's my plan.  om and splash.

Oh, and much more importantly, Happy Birthday, Stacie!!!!

the truth?

life sucks.  i have good days and bad days but none of them have the one thing i really want.  my 9TS.  i don't know why yesterday was so crummy.  i try as a whole to keep busy.  i went through piles of accumulated paper work, sent out some long overdue notes, made my grocery list, brushed down the still green pool, ran to the clerk of the court for a certified copy of my marriage certificate, emptied the dishwasher, tossed a huge pile of junk to the street for garbage collection, finished a book, ate and fell into the wine bottle.  worshiping the porcelain goddess is not the answer.  and finally, i broke down and took an ambien.  and slept until 5:14.  still no sloth.  and, as we all know, everything seems worse in the depth of night.  even my chirping bird friends are silent.  my brains are going round and round and I know they won't stop until the sun comes up and brings another day. 

i keep the downstairs bedroom door closed.  even though the furniture has long been put back in place, i can't lose the vision of him in that hospital bed, struggling.  dying.  i still see the pain on the faces of my family. i want to remember the good times but they won't come yet.  i just want my sloth back.  is that really too much to ask?

burp . . .

Joanie and I are still walking five miles, four times a week, but now we are carrying a few extra supplies . . . whatever bread happens to be in the fridge . . . for our friends of course!

We were also feeding Delphina, the Muscovy duck, but she seems to have taken a vacation and has wandered off. 

I finally added my Canon to the bag of goodies and got some shots the other day.  Life is good.  I just have problems resisting taking a toothbrush to clean someones back.  Their hygiene is significantly lacking!!!