Easter was to be a small affair, just the two of us
The menu was simple: chicken parmesan, garlic bread, a big salad, and my famous cheesecake for dessert
Saturday I had been so sick, I lay around all day, in and out of sleep. Nothing serious, just a virus that’s been around our town and finally found me
Hubby had been sick already 3 days
By Sunday a.m. we knew neither of us were going to church
Dinner was a maybe, the day’s fare consisting mostly of tea and toast, and diet soda
Somewhere mid-day while watching movies, he got hungry and I made salads. That gave us some energy to think about the delicious chicken, but that meant being on my feet
What’s a girl to do?
The cheesecake finally made it into the oven, but had to refrigerate a minimum of four hours
The chicken was finished cooking mid-evening, declared delicious, and gobbled up, sans bread or veg or anything else
Then I passed out during the next movie
When I woke up, I was sad that it was bedtime and he hadn’t had any Easter cheesecake. I cut him a slice and he declared one bite delicious, saving the rest for Monday
I opted out of that or toast or anything, laying down again and waking up to the t.v. another hour later, past midnight
We finally had the good sense to find our bed, then talked more into the night before we both passed out to our fever dreams
I dreamed about Barry White. He was hanging out with me in a black, glittery suit, a whale of a man. I said, “That suit just glitters, it really shines.”
He said, “You shine, in everything you do.”
Damn, I have an endorsement from Barry White. I woke up feeling a little better and more confident than ever to continue on the path I have chosen. What a guy.
Happy Monday! We are all still here, and glad to be. If we ever get re-married to renew our vows as we’ve discussed, I want this song to be part of it. Allbest as we start out this week together. Thanks for reading. You know, I never take that for granted–
Though starting rather late, our cleaning for spring is advancing well
In my defense, it is difficult to forget that the season is not still winter
We drove to church in driving snow, the visibility poor, but we got there safely
This morning the sun is so bright, I cannot see, even just looking out the window. Inspiring!
There were a few scuffles in the parceling out of cleaning tasks, but all was peaceful by day’s end
Today is a grocery and baking day, hopefully with a nice corner to read in later, when I have earned it
Happy Monday! It has come again. I bid you a great one, or at least a peaceful one–oh, and did I mention I love the blues? (the music, not depression) I love them like I love a good haiku–sadness and hope in one tasty morsel. Time for coffee and breakfast!
Could I edit my feature photo to be a little smaller?
Sure I could
But I woke up to brilliant sunshine and a temp here of -2°F
I am planting a little mental spring garden to give me the will to go out the door this morning
today, on March 4
positivity is key
So this was intended to be a handful of random thoughts
instead I am harping on winter
winter that wants to stay
here’s a thought, and a tip for the day
Bakers? Don’t forget that even a sweet treat needs a pinch of salt in it to bring out the sweetness. Not much, just a half teaspoon, perhaps a quarter, or only a pinch. It’s chemistry. It works. Please trust me on this!
In other news, I am continuing sewing memory pillows for a friend. The first two were fashioned from sweaters, as will the next after this project today
which is two pillows made from a first communion dress from the sixties
It has been very rewarding, but gives me sweats taking the clothing apart, these dear memorials people held on to for so long
I just don’t want to screw it up.
But so far, so good
After that, writing, both a side project, and my own
And, if I get a couple of hours left at the end of the day in which I do not pass out early, I will watch an old movie I have been saving to watch with hubby
I walked into the place and decided that this was where I belonged for the next two years. It was loud and raucous, and I could not hear my own voice when I ordered a drink from the bartender with hair standing straight up on her head. It was 1985, and one-night stands were in season. Perhaps they were popular and frantic because everyone knew they were on their way out. Like the bees in September.
I met a man who sang at the piano once or twice a weekend. It wasn’t the same as the driving disco beat and crappy singles bar feeling. It was a hint of something smooth and fine, lounge music adding a dirty tone to what I had heard now and then on my folks’ t.v. I was in love.
I had a crush on the man but I was in love with the music. The words. The romance of the piano in the night, speaking to me of longings that were very old. I knew this place. I had known it years before I walked inside.