A lovely memory and lazy leftovers

 

Would you believe I wrote this blog, went to save it, and lost it? The post was mostly inspired by this picture that popped up on my computer this morning. Now I consider it a challenge to see how much I can recover from memory. Here goes: fifteen years ago, my grands were dedicated at my home church, University Christian in Fort Worth. We had the ceremony in the chapel, not before the congregation, because not all of my children belong to this church. The picture was taken right afterward. Maddie the oldest, is holding Kegan, the youngest. Kegan was then all of three weeks old. Jacob, to my left, was intrigued by this thing called a baby and desperate to get at it. I had my arm firmly around him. To Maddie’s left, Sawyer and Eden seem oblivious to whatever was going on. In my lap is Ford, who was about eight months old and had a dump in his diaper—I handed him to his mom as soon as the picture was done. To my right is Morgan who kept creeping away as though she wanted to pretend she had never seen any of us. They are all now grown or well on the way there. Maddie is twenty-three, Kegan fifteen, and they are all still wonderful. After this ceremony, we had a porch party, of course—a brunch buffet. Such good memories.

I decided today that the day after a party is meant for slow moving. It didn’t help my focus or ambition that Zenaida was here cleaning the cottage, and I could be easily distracted by talking to her. I kept up with emails, read some political articles online, wrote just a bit, and piddled, this afternoon spending a lot of time looking for a recipe I’ve lost and never did find.

It was also a leftover day. Yesterday, despite the party looming in the evening, I had a lunch of leftover salmon, marinated cucumber, guacamole, and some squash and sweet onion I’d sauteed—the squash/onion combination is my new summer favorite. I consider it a blessing when I open my fridge and see leftovers. My neighbor, one of seven children , refuses to eat leftovers because he had too many as a child. I think that's sad.

Today my lunch was a sandwich with the salmon spread I made for last night’s party—it is the best stuff, surely one of my favorite recipes, equally good on crackers or in a sandwich. Tonight, while the family ate brats I had more salmon, this time with lemon and mayonnaise, and Jordan’s good blue cheese salad. I figure tomorrow I’ll have salmon for lunch and serve the spread at happy hour. And then the salmon will have seen its day. But Wednesday, when I’m home alone for supper, I’ll probably put some canned salmon with pasta for a one-dish meal. Thank goodness, it’s good for you.

Christian is a genius at saving orchids to rebloom, and this picture shows one once given to me. When it had seen its day, I turned it over to Christian. He recently sent it back to the cottage, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one with so many full, large blooms that lasted so long. The dog in front is Shea, done by my pal Jean’s late husband, Jim Clark. It’s a treasure.

This promises to be an interesting week of news, what with the national furor over guns and the televised sessions of the House of Representatives Special Committee to investigate the January 6 insurrection. I am geared up to follow all of it. I have strong feelings, as you may have suspected, and I’ll probably rant in this space before the week is over.

Meantime, tonight I plan to go to bed early and wake in the morning full of energy and rarin’ to go. Maybe you should too.