Leftovers, from happiness to food

 

I was too busy to remember picures this week, 
so here, for the algorithms, is one of both my boys
on a race day, somewhere, sometime.

My wonderful week has ended. For a couple of days, I had both my sons sleeping under my roof—sort of. There’s no room in the cottage, so they slept in the house. But it’s still, by my definition, under my roof, and that has always been a sign of happiness for me—having grown children back home sleeping safely under my roof. They boys would tell you they were mom-sitting, but they were also enjoying time together, with long, deep talks about the business world.

Today is a leftovers day. Jamie went back to Frisco yesterday, and Colin left for Tomball late this morning. So I am savoring leftover memories of good times and eating leftovers—corned beef has for breakfast that Jame brought me from Ol’ South, because he knows I like it. And for lunch, the last of the cottage pie.

It was a full week that took me out of my routine. We visited one night with Subie and Phil who have known the kids all their lives, and another night with Renee who is a new friend. But she and Colin were in Kingwood at the same time, although they didn’t know it—I thought they would reminisce about that city, but the evening turned into a rousing discussion of politics, movies, and I don’t know what all. We went out to dinner one night—when I ate too much rich food, drank an extra glass of wine, and could tell the difference the next day. Lesson learned--again. For Colin, no trip to Fort Worth is complete without a Rebecca sandwich from Carshon's, so I got a tongue sandwich while Jamie went to Ernesto's for his lunch, and yet another night we had Railhead. Hitting all their favorites.

Colin spent much of his time in the house at the dining table on his computer. He resigned from a company months ago but was still doing consultant work, and this week brought some kind of big financial deadline, so he was busy. As Zenaida said, he was in there on this phone, “talking, talking, talking.” Jamie is happily between positions and spent some time, like

yesterday early afternoon, picking out Joan Baez’ “Love Song to a Stranger” on the guitar. I love working at my desk—even more, napping—while listening to his soft guitar music. So there were lots of nice moments like that. Of course, both boys never miss a chance to pick on their mom, from the way I dictate text messages (Jacob says my messages make absolutely no sense) to my left-leaning tendencies. All in good fun.

Sophie was in hog heaven--she has so many favorite friends, but she instinctively knows my four children and is ecstatic when they visit, dancing around their feet, sitting on their laps, even reaching out to give a kiss.

One night she got me up four times before I was ready to get up, and I'm sure it was because she knew Colin was in the house. When he came to give her a shot, I suggested he take her inside so I could sleep. This morning, she stood and looked mournfully down the driveway as Colin disappeared. Tonight I'm glad to have her back with me, even if I am second choice. 

A highlight of the week was a visit to my brother. John has been either in hospital or rehab since the first of February after a fall and broken kneecap, followed by Covid, followed by pneumonia and various other complications. His wife and son had both, until recently, advised me not to visit, but this week we all three went. To my joy, he looked fine, sounded fine. His mind was clear and his sense of humor intact. We all laughed so much I was afraid the staff would come in and tell us to tone it down.

Tonight, the Burtons are home. I fixed lamb sliders and Texas caviar for their supper, and they regaled me with tales of San Miguel while they ate. They apparently had a wonderful time, loved the place, the architecture, all the restaurants. Christian weighed the differences, pro and con, between a beach resort in Mexico and an inner city. For me, there would be no question—I’d want the inner city, but only if it was San Miguel, which he tells me is out of my reach because it’s not handicapped accessible with cobblestone streets and narrow sidewalks. That’s okay. I didn’t plan to go anyway, though it’s one of the places that has long been on my bucket list.

I am glad to have them back home, but we only get Jordan for half a day. Early afternoon tomorrow she leaves on a work trip to Paris and Reykjavik—poor thing. I will plan to cook things she doesn’t eat, so I foresee lots of pasta in our week’s menu. Life will be sort of more normal next week, but with her away, it will also be a lot different.

Meantime I have projects on my desk, and after having not gotten much done this week, I really need to pay attention to business. It’s all good.