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At 11:55 we were at Carshon’s
where Stephanie and Theresa made a table for twelve work even though they were
already busy. Colin has literally been eating at Carshon’s all his almost-fifty
years and does not ever think of coming to Fort Worth without going there. You’ll
note, he didn’t come home—he went to Carshon’s. Theresa takes one look at him
and says, “Rebecca. No Russian dressing.” Jordan and Christian splurged and had
another designer sandwich, and Jacob seemed to like his bagel and cream cheese.
The family of four that my kids always ski with joked that this was not their
first time at the deli, and they knew exactly what to order.
But I had one of those
special moments as I sat at the head of the table and looked at all the twelve
people. I thought, “I made this happen. This wonderful moment. These are my
kids, their children, their friends. How blessed we are.” Later, Jacob sort of echoed
that. Waiting for Christian to bring the car up, I sat next to him—and he
immediately scooted away. I joked about it, and his cousin Kegan sat between
us. “Juju,” Jacob said, “Kegan doesn’t see you very often. I live with you.” I
hope that was a brag and not a complaint.
Sophie had a good day
too. Here she is in that classic position that indicates a dog feels perfectly
safe and perfectly content and at ease. Christian and I had a good laugh at the
one leg sticking straight up in the air. She actually sleeps that way a lot in
the daytime.
Tonight, Jordan’s
longtime BFF, David Barnes, came for happy hour. Nice now that he lives just
blocks away, even though his wonderful new wife, Kelly, was out of town. We had
a great visit, with lots of projections of what they would all look like as
they aged. Funny, but my warning to them was not to laugh it off too lightly. Christian,
whose father is bald, did a projection of himself as bald—much better than with
long hair.
They went inside for
dinner, but I chose to stay in the cottage. I made an avocado/blue cheese/cherry
tomato salad with lemon and cooked the Dover sole I bought today. Although a
friend told me about a recipe with brown butter and capers, I chose to use the garlic/herb
butter I bought by mistake and need to use, and I left out the capers—that particular
fish is so delicate in flavor I didn’t want capers to overwhelm it.
Amount of work I got done
today? Zero, zilch, nada. Maybe tomorrow. But then again, that’s what being
eighty and retired is all about. It was a lovely day.
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