A day of visiting and a dinner that wasn’t

 

This morning I had company for morning coffee, something I rarely do because such a visit cuts into my work schedule. But when I mentioned happy hour or supper, Priscilla said she no longer drives in the evening, so I impulsively suggested a morning visit. Priscilla is in some ways a Facebook friend—oh, we’ve known each other for years, mostly professionally, never close, not even crossing paths frequently,, A few years ago a mutual friend set up a series of monthly lunches that Priscilla and I both attended, but neither of us got to talk much.

In recent times, though, Priscilla has been one of my most faithful followers on Facebook, commenting when she particularly liked a post. She is evidence of what I continually say: for all its critics, Facebook has a lot of advantages. One is that you occasionally make new, good friends.

This was Priscilla’s second visit to the cottage, and it was such fun to see her walk in and immediately greet Sophie by name and talk directly to her. We talked about our lives, about wanting space and yet not wanting to be lonely, about TCU friends—we know so few people there now! She is off for her annual four or five months at her seashore home in Maine (yes, I’m sort of jealous, but in other ways I’m not—Priscilla, however, loves it). It was a good time, and an hour flew by. As for my work? Hey, nobody but me cares if I get behind.

Tonight, as usual on Tuesdays, Mary came for happy hour. She and I share German heritage, so I had a special treat for her—a roll of Braunschweiger. She said she’d had that brand before, and it was good. Indeed it was! Buttery and soft and mild—I loved it. Sent half the leftover home with Mary, but now I intend to put it on my shopping list.

Once again a pleasant visit with conversation ranging over a bit of everything—the neighborhood (Mary misses her old house and was dismayed when, out of habit, she drove by it and saw that the lawn desperately needs mowing); summer plans; food—we can always talk groceries and recipes. Jordan joined us, so the talk was also much about travel and Jacob’s summer and other odd bits. Once again, an hour flew by.

Jordan had a consultant from her office coming to work with her at seven, and I was to feed the boys. I hope that wasn’t the reason Mary hurried away because dinner fizzled. I planned to make Christian’s favorite hot German salad, but he came home and fell asleep on the couch, Jordan wouldn’t be eating, and who knows where Jacob was. Story of my dinner planning. I put everything away to cook for tomorrow night. I’d eaten enough Braunschweiger that I really didn’t need dinner—I was just on the edge of wanting more. So I ate the last few pigs in a blanket and called it a day.

The Colonial Golf Tournament starts tomorrow, so the rest of the week is at best  uncertain. Christian says he’ll be home for supper tomorrow, and I will play the remaining evenings by ear. I know nobody will be here Sunday, the final day. So I’m going to do some single-serving meal planning tonight.

I’m happy to report that my brother is safely at home at his ranch. He said today that he watched the sunrise from his sunporch, and his daughter sent a picture of him in as she put it, “real clothes,” instead of a hospital gown. Big progress. Now to get the wheelchair from here to there!

Life is good.