Excitement, sort of

It doesn’t take much these days to make a day exciting, so I had an exciting day today—sort of. Actually got out of the house and off the property. Had t go have another ultrasound to see why my fat leg is still swollen. That in itself is not exciting—ultrasound is not painful or difficult, just kind of boring as you lie there wondering how much longer it’s going to take. This after we sat in the car a long time waiting to be called inside.

But oh the sights I saw on the way there—a house that I’d always admired, mostly because I could see through the window that it had terrific, packed bookcases, is suddenly gone, to be replaced by a McMansion I’m sure.. Another house on our route had disappeared but I couldn’t remember what was there. Crepe myrtles are in bloom, lawns still look mostly green—not yet brown from the heat though this last week may do it—and the city seemed pretty.

After the appointment, Jordan wanted to go to the cardiac vet’s office to pick up medication for June Bug. It’s way out on the south side of town, and she follows a devious route which I couldn’t trace if I had to. But it’s mostly on access roads, so when I said, ‘Jordan! My hearing aid is gone!” there was no way she could pull over. I called the imaging office and asked them to look—they even went through the trash, checking the paper that had been on the bed. Nothing. Jordan was thinking replacement cost; I was thinking difficulty in hearing, although I get along okay with one aid.

Finally, at the vet’s, we stopped under a wonderful and huge canopy that covers most of the parking spaces. I stepped out and we patted and poked at my clothes. Nothing. Then Jordan found it in the car seat. It had apparently fallen out when I took off my mask. It’s the one that does tend to slide out of the ear. Anyway, it was a great relief after a moment of panic.

I wanted to stop at my favorite sandwich shop on the way home and get something to take home for lunch. But Jordan looked online. They’ve only recently re-opened and now for take-out you have to call a day ahead. Who knows a day ahead that they’ll want a sandwich for lunch? Big disappointment.

All that excitement! When I got home, I was exhausted and had to have a nap. Sophie had other ideas, and then the lawn guy called to answer my questions about my new grass, which is lush and lovely and very shaggy—apparently, they don’t mow for two weeks after they put it in. He says he can take care of the nut grass scattered throughout..

Jean came for happy hour. Patio is maybe a bit warm but really not unpleasant, what with the fan going and the umbrella blocking that one bit of evening sun my shady patio gets. We talked of mice and men, of politics and masks, and all kinds of things. It’s so good to have a friend with whom I can say almost anything and who most of the time supports and agrees with me—and tells me when she doesn’t. We know each other’s families and concerns and joys. I’m the richer for her friendship.

With Jacob out of town, Jordan and Christian are having a “date night” tonight. With the pandemic, they can’t go out, so they’re grilling steaks at home. I planned to make myself a black bean casserole I’ve been wanting to try, until Jordan said, “Well, if you prefer black beans to steak. . . .” They had gotten a steak for me, so I’m enjoying it as I type. Made myself a small salad and that’s dinner. The steak is large, so I expect to have it for lunch tomorrow too.

‘Night all.

Cooking as life goes on

This morning I found myself facing a desk with two obituaries, a death certificate, and an article about a long-dead architect. I had to clear my desk of death. My younger son said thanks, but he didn't need the article though the architect, who had broken modernist ground here in Fort Worth, was a childhood friend of his--he used to detail his cars and once went to Santa Fe with him, his wife, and our Uncle Bob.
Next was the obituary of a good friend's husband--she didn't need it she said because it was the first version and contained errors--the second version was published after the funeral, which puzzled me.
I sent the death certificate to the cemetery where my cousin will be buried and ordered a gravestone--modest, with her full name (two middle names!), dates of birth and death, names of parents.
So left is the obituary for my good and close friend, plus an article in a local hospital magazine about her son's family. I've put them on the dining table to remember to take to the funeral Saturday.
So now what's left on my desk is a bunch of cooking magazines, which I think is sort of fitting--life goes on. I haven't cleared these deaths and losses from my mind, but I'm moving ahead...and clipping recipes. Also have a few notes about the final scene to write in my work-in-progress--but it's only a first draft and there is much work ahead of me.
I did finalize the neighborhood newsletter and get it off, late, to the designer today, so I've done some good things. Just have to write that last scene and get in the spirit of the novel.
Meantime I'm more in the spirit of cooking. Thinking poor-boy sandwiches would be good this weekend, and found a recipe for making them with basil and oregano-infused mayonnaise plus arugula tossed in lemon and olive oil. Fanciest poor boy I ever heard of.
Cooking has always been a solace for me, and I think it's only fitting that my mind goes to food at this time. My cousin, whom I never really knew and who was out of touch with reality, would not understand. But the friends I've lost are smiling and approving. I know that.