Thoughts.

Have you ever noticed that if you look closely at the drain in the shower, it looks a lot like the 18th hole of a miniature golf course?

Remember playing I Never as a teen? Think of how different it would be now.

Clearly, I’m in a contemplative mood.

Disappointment.

Almost six weeks ago, I put tonight on the calendar. I got a babysitter (on a Monday night!) and our friend made a reservation at Acadiana a new-ish Cajun restaurant in Washington, D.C. DC Foodies says it serves really brilliant food. The Washington Post readers gave it a 4-star rating. Anyway, I love virtually all southern food (read rich and fattening food) and Andrew lived in Lafayette, Louisiana way back and we were really looking forward to this nice night out with friends.

The plan was that Katie (our sitter) would be here at 4:30 – we’d quit work early and leave for Silver Spring. We’d meet at our friends’ house and take the metro in. Attire had been discussed. The menu had been studied.

3:00 p.m. the phone rings. Amazing I could hear it with all the construction noise. The school nurse. Never a good thing. Have you ever heard of the nurse calling for something that wasn’t going to wreck your plans?

So it’s 7:00 p.m. I’m on the computer. The boys are reading quietly and Reed (the sick one – with 102, I might add) is in bed. Not the evening I planned. But, we’ll get the kids in bed and open a bottle of wine. Since we have no family room, or living room for that matter, we’ll hang out in the bedroom and watch a movie.

I suppose it could be worse.

One word.

Have you seen this email?

Describe me in ONE WORD…just one word! Send it to me only, then send this message to your friends and see how many strange things people say about you! This could be fun! Just hit reply and send me my one word back.

GAME ON!!

I got it from my Aunt Phyl. It is hard. I wrote “creative” and sent it back and then kicked myself. She is very creative, but is that the best word to describe her? She is so much more than that.

I sent it to some of my friends. I was perplexed by some of the responses and humbled by others. A few: accurate, passionate, determined, incredible (hee hee, I needed that), loyal… But the answer that I would never dreamed of getting – and I didn’t, rest assured – is laid-back. I am not laid-back.

Case in point. My house is a wreck. It’s a wreck for a good reason and I’m going to love it when it’s done. But it’s really and truly, and I’m not exaggerating, a wreck. The kitchen table is sideways and upside down in the dining room. The dining room table is in the living room, along with all 12 chairs from both sets, a sofa, chaise, 2 desks and a club chair. Did I mention the kids’ computer is in there too?

I just set the table – the dining room table – for dinner tonight. In the living room. With all that other stuff shoved aside far enough for us to fit at the table. It’s quite a sight. But damn it, we’re sitting down for dinner. If it kills me. And it might.

I think I was doing fine until yesterday. I was handling the mess. I was working around it. But now, there is no working around it. I guess the good news is, I’m a lot more relaxed than Andrew. He’s in a fetal position somewhere out of the work zone.

Advice from a tree.

Nothing is nicer than an unexpected gift. We received this poster today – framed beautifully – as a holiday gift from someone we’ve been working with for about a year. We’ve helped him. He’s helped us. We’ve become friends. It was such a nice gesture, I was speechless. Not something that happens all that often.

The print is really small on the photo… it says:

Stand tall and proud
Sink your roots deeply into the earth
Be content with your natural beauty
Drink plenty of water
Go out on a limb
Remember your roots
Enjoy the view

Happy birthday to my biggest fan.

Today is my mother’s birthday. Admittedly, we had some rough years when I was a teenager, but all in all it’s been great. Definitely at least 40 good years. My mom told me recently that she loves my blog. She feels that she understands my life better, knows what I think about and feels like she has a private window into my world. I didn’t start writing for this reason, but it’s a lovely benefit. (Though I admit, I do think about the fact she reads it before I post any bad words!)

My mother is terrific. In so many ways. I hope that my children have as many wonderful memories of childhood as I do and that they feel as loved by me as I always have by my mom. I am who I am because of her. She’s a volunteer. She’s a friend. She puts full energy into everything she takes on. I’m proud of her and proud to be like her.

Shameless plug — she is also a featured diarist in the upcoming book, This Day in the Life which goes on sale December 27.

Anyway, Happy Birthday, Mom! (aren’t you glad I didn’t write fuck or shit or anything!?)

Question of the day.

Reed was reading the Washington Post this morning. (I love that the boys read the paper – mostly the comics and sports pages, but it’s a start!) After seeing a story about the new stadium for the NY Giants, Reed told me it was going to cost $1 billion. Then he asked me….

“Mom, do we have a billion dollars?”

I told him no, that a billion dollars was a huge amount of money. He then told me, in a matter of fact tone, that he knows we’re not poor. And now, he says, he knows we’re not rich either. He guesses we’re somewhere in between.

Yes, Reed, we are somewhere between poor and billionaires.

Denise.

Though we’ve added a couple of great chicks to our chick-poker game, there is something missing. Denise. She left us several months back – and moved to Springfield, Illinois which, according to the Convention & Visitors Bureau is the best of the Midwest. Centrally located along the Sangamon River, Springfield has the dynamic energy of a prospering city, full of adventure, history and fun! But I digress.

Denise took matters into her own hands. She invited 6 women to join her and started her own chick-poker group. Tonight is their first game! Good luck, Denise. We miss you.

Haggis.

Thanks to Steakbellie’s post today, we had the opportunity to discuss haggis at dinner. Admittedly, it was the beginning of a downward slide of conversation. You might be surprised to know that my 10 year old knew what haggis is:

…a traditionally Scottish dish that consists of the heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep or a calf minced with suet, onions, oatmeal, and seasonings boiled in the stomach of the animal…though his description was even ickier than that!

But as you can imagine, if the starting point is haggis, the end point is really gross. When you share the dinner table with a man and 3 boys, what else can one expect?

Photo credit goes to John Pettigrew’s blog.

Sauternes or Melissa or Redd Foxx. Can’t decide what to call this.

What a day. We just got back from dinner at Cafe de Paris. We’ve eaten there before. A lovely menu and terrific food. HOWEVER. Our waitress tonight, Shana, was new. When we asked for a wine reco, she told us she was qualified to help, since she used to work at Olive Garden. Once we regained our composure, we ordered a lovely bottle of pinot noir. But let’s start at the beginning. It was happy hour and Shana told us that we could partake of the happy hour specials at the table, instead of the bar. When the check came, we found out that was not the case.

Dinner was delicious. I had Beef Bourguignon. Wonderful – particularly on a cold night like this. Melissa (see I said your name!) had fish, though I forget which. Her hub, Scott, had fish, too, I think. Andrew had duck.

We laughed. A lot. It was a great night. We toasted to Richard Pryor. Melissa told us that her Southern parents loved Redd Foxx – but then we cackled when we found out she meant Red Skeleton. What a hoot! We talked about the Northern Lights — Melissa and Scott made plans to take their boys to Alaska next year. We sat for hours. It was wonderful. We are lucky to have friends like this.

On the way out, the owner, Eric, asked how the meal was. We told him the food was good, but the waitress misled us regarding the drinks. He steered us to the bar where he had the bartender pour us Sauternes. It was great. We chatted. We laughed. We talked about Citronelle, where he evidently can pull strings. (note to self – use that new info!)

I also found out that Eric’s daughter went to school with my kids. Funny how small the world is. But what is truly remarkable is that because of the way Eric handled us, we’ll be going back. Now that’s service.

Woe is me.

Snow is everywhere
The children are home all day
Construction stops cold