Whenever we go to Albertsons, Scott stops just inside the front door to dig in his pockets and look through the treasures in the those vending machines. If he doesn’t have any change I dig it out of my purse and leave him to it. The only reason to go to Albertsons is for the Broccoli Rabe, the plantains and those silly vending machines.
I love this about him. These little rituals. Another one is stopping at the bulletin board by the drug store. We can almost never walk by without him having to stop and read what’s up there. I don’t know what the attraction is for that one. I definitely get the love of reading the free ads in the New Times. Those are priceless. Bookshelf $11, you pick up. Broken table, like new $32 obo. His fascination with the ordinary makes me stop and look and wonder. I’d miss so much of this world without him there.

I made a Broccoli Rabe and Vegan Sausage Torte with a butternut squash and feta cheese salad, mashed potatoes and hoppin johns w/collards to bring in the new year.

The bling in the picture is what my delicious dishwasher won out of the Albertson’s machine.

Whenever we go to Albertsons, Scott stops just inside the front door to dig in his pockets and look through the treasures in the those vending machines. If he doesn’t have any change I dig it out of my purse and leave him to it. The only reason to go to Albertsons is for the Broccoli Rabe, the plantains and those silly vending machines.
I love this about him. These little rituals. Another one is stopping at the bulletin board by the drug store. We can almost never walk by without him having to stop and read what’s up there. I don’t know what the attraction is for that one. I definitely get the love of reading the free ads in the New Times. Those are priceless. Bookshelf $11, you pick up. Broken table, like new $32 obo. His fascination with the ordinary makes me stop and look and wonder. I’d miss so much of this world without him there.

I made a Broccoli Rabe and Vegan Sausage Torte with a butternut squash and feta cheese salad, mashed potatoes and hoppin johns w/collards to bring in the new year.

The bling in the picture is what my delicious dishwasher won out of the Albertson’s machine.

Ho Ho Ho.
I hurt my back again. A regular annoyance. I’m behind on my New Yorkers so I can lay down and read them and when Em finishes watching her screaming children movie, I’ll lay down and watch something useless and boring because that’s what we pay the big bucks to our cable tv company for.

I’ll also gaze lovingly at my Christmas tree. Yes, I have a Christmas tree inspite of the fact that I DO NOT Heart Christmas. The Dishwasher, bless his enormously sweet chocolate truffle heart, purchased a Christmas tree I said I loved and wanted and had it delivered to our door. It has no leaves only brown branches and it’s small but it holds all of the goofy little ornaments we’ve collected through the years (the wooden zebra we hung above our berth on our boat, the little dog dressed as a hippie) and it fits just right in the window. It’s perfect.

Em is home and being so decent it’s about melting my heart into a giant puddle. She hasn’t looked at her father with contempt once and has even managed to stay in the room with us once or twice. EVEN sat and had dinner with us last night! These are huge gifts I’m ridiculously grateful for. We’re battered and dazed parents reliving the nightmares of our own parents. I have a deep respect for my own Mother these days. Marveling at how she didn’t break under the pressure of raising us. Alone. Of course she’d already been broken in the worst way. Dealing with our shit wasn’t so bad especially since Abuelita had her back.
Is that quiet I hear? Yes it is. The children have stopped screaming. I can go lay down.

Ho Ho Ho.
I hurt my back again. A regular annoyance. I’m behind on my New Yorkers so I can lay down and read them and when Em finishes watching her screaming children movie, I’ll lay down and watch something useless and boring because that’s what we pay the big bucks to our cable tv company for.

I’ll also gaze lovingly at my Christmas tree. Yes, I have a Christmas tree inspite of the fact that I DO NOT Heart Christmas. The Dishwasher, bless his enormously sweet chocolate truffle heart, purchased a Christmas tree I said I loved and wanted and had it delivered to our door. It has no leaves only brown branches and it’s small but it holds all of the goofy little ornaments we’ve collected through the years (the wooden zebra we hung above our berth on our boat, the little dog dressed as a hippie) and it fits just right in the window. It’s perfect.

Em is home and being so decent it’s about melting my heart into a giant puddle. She hasn’t looked at her father with contempt once and has even managed to stay in the room with us once or twice. EVEN sat and had dinner with us last night! These are huge gifts I’m ridiculously grateful for. We’re battered and dazed parents reliving the nightmares of our own parents. I have a deep respect for my own Mother these days. Marveling at how she didn’t break under the pressure of raising us. Alone. Of course she’d already been broken in the worst way. Dealing with our shit wasn’t so bad especially since Abuelita had her back.
Is that quiet I hear? Yes it is. The children have stopped screaming. I can go lay down.

Another necklace. This one made from “scraps”, odds, try-outs. It wears like a suit of armor. It makes me feel strong. Able to lift and carry heavy objects which I normally avoid doing.

It’s wet. It’s been wet for days now. It stopped raining a couple of days ago but the morning fog keeps everything in a constant state of drip. There are only 2 guests in the Inn so Maria and I are wandering around, reading the papers, another car crash kills another young man. The second in as many weeks. Both acquaintances of Maria.

I’m reading my emails. It seems there’s a job opening for a frito lay delivery person and the offer for a larger penis is still open as well as an exclusive gift for me, “party girl”!

That is all.

Another necklace. This one made from “scraps”, odds, try-outs. It wears like a suit of armor. It makes me feel strong. Able to lift and carry heavy objects which I normally avoid doing.

It’s wet. It’s been wet for days now. It stopped raining a couple of days ago but the morning fog keeps everything in a constant state of drip. There are only 2 guests in the Inn so Maria and I are wandering around, reading the papers, another car crash kills another young man. The second in as many weeks. Both acquaintances of Maria.

I’m reading my emails. It seems there’s a job opening for a frito lay delivery person and the offer for a larger penis is still open as well as an exclusive gift for me, “party girl”!

That is all.

The Dining Room is now the office. It’s light and spacious and very organized. Ahhhhhhh.
My little Chinese apothecary cabinet fits just right in the corner.
The refining never ends.

Thank God. What would I want with perfection?

I’ve put down the sweater I started knitting with my fancy yarn to knit a quick scarf using some odds and ends. Nearly instant gratification instead of endless counting of rows and stitches and decreases and increases. It was making me crazy even though I was going at it slowly and in a carefree, who cares how long it takes me sort of way. I think it was giving me someone else’s dreams. I dreamed I was overwhelmed with tasks. The dogs barking like mad at the back door while someone needed help at the front door and me with a dinner to prepare for guests. Nothing like present circumstances. But they can change so drastically from one week to the next.
Say, next week when Em comes home for Winter Break. :O/

The Dining Room is now the office. It’s light and spacious and very organized. Ahhhhhhh.
My little Chinese apothecary cabinet fits just right in the corner.
The refining never ends.

Thank God. What would I want with perfection?

I’ve put down the sweater I started knitting with my fancy yarn to knit a quick scarf using some odds and ends. Nearly instant gratification instead of endless counting of rows and stitches and decreases and increases. It was making me crazy even though I was going at it slowly and in a carefree, who cares how long it takes me sort of way. I think it was giving me someone else’s dreams. I dreamed I was overwhelmed with tasks. The dogs barking like mad at the back door while someone needed help at the front door and me with a dinner to prepare for guests. Nothing like present circumstances. But they can change so drastically from one week to the next.
Say, next week when Em comes home for Winter Break. :O/