So proud of Kegan, my youngest grandchild, the Tomball kid. At eight, he was asked to try out for the 11-year-old soccer team and made it. His mom sent this picture, saying Kegan, on the left, doesn’t even realize he’s half the size of #6. He may be physically, but he’s twice the size in spirit.
Today was what every Saturday should be—lazy, no commitments, a genuinely nice day. Jacob is here a lot the next week, because his mom is on a business trip to Alaska—poor thing, a week on a Holland America cruise line. Have a hankering to go to Alaska? Just call Jordan—she will tell you all about it. Being a travel agent isn’t all bad.
Today Jacob and I slept late, and it was well after ten before I got myself in gear to do mundane house chores like make the bed, water plants, do a load of laundry. Jacob’s dad came to get him for lunch, and then they took a buddy to play at their house. I worked—learning to format manuscripts for print and digital production. Steep learning curve, but I’ve been keeping after it. And, yes, I had to have a good nap.
Tonight, I’m still alternating time at my desk with household chores—cutting up chicken for tomorrow night’s casserole, setting the table. I pan roasted the chicken as I usually do—sprinkle with salt, pepper and onion, cover with foil, and let it cook an hour or so.. It produces the most wonderfully flavored gelatin—at least one of my children hates “gelatinous” things. I know it’s not good for us, it’s not good for the dog (who sniffed with utmost curiosity), and I’d probably never make soup out of it. But, gosh, it hurt me to throw it away. The Scotsman in me, I guess. I once asked the owner of a Scottish B&B why they served blood pudding—which is nothing more than oatmeal with blood added and I didn’t think it was much of an addition. He shrugged, “I guess it was part of using everything about the animal.” Sometimes I wish I were that kind of cook.
Unfortunately, tomorrow probably won’t be that lazy. Maybe I got all the laziness out of my system today.