A day at the lake

Today, with my manuscript crying out to be revised, I went off to spend several hours with friends Pat and Hal Normand at their Lake Worth house. I'm ashamed to say it's been over three  years since they tore down the cabin they'd had there and built a new house. Pat tells me it's built on a plan from Coastal Magazine, and though she described it as modified Craftsman, I'd describe it as modified Cape Cod, maybe because of the partial shingles of the outside and the narrow, tall construction.. Either way, it's lovely but unpretentious. Inside the main living area is all one open space--kitchen, living room, dining to the side, screened-in-porch off the living room, all with a direct and uncluttered view of the lake. To the side, out the dining room windows is a view of a small cove, and behind the house is undeveloped wild land. They have deer and other wild animals--in fact a deer jumped the fence and landed in their yard recently.
Hal tells me he loves to sit and watch the lake because something is always happening. I couldn't see that, but I have always loved a view of water since my childhood days spent at the Indiana Dunes, and I confess to a bit of jealousy. There is one room downstairs, just off the front door, that is used for an office but could be a third bedroom; upstairs there's a spacious landing that Pat has filled with her mom's Victorian furniture and two bedrooms. The master has that magnificent view of the lake again with a small porch which they never use because they love the screened-in-porch (especially important in these summer of West Nile virius). The guest room upstairs looks out on the woods, which once again reminds me of the Dunes where we had water in front and woods in back. A special place: what they call the atrium, a courtyard between the house and the garage that has a table and chairs and is absolutely overflowing with plants. Hal paved it with flagstones himself, one by one. It's spectacular. I want to transport this house--and the lake--to my beloved inner city neighborhood. I guess you can't have everything, but in a big way I envy them. On the other hand, I'm glad they're so happy there. I wish of course that I'd taken pictures, but I didn't--kept thinking about it.
After a big brunch of flat enchiladas and a good catch-up visit, I came home to work on my manuscript and made good progress. Then I had a long, great nap, and got up and cooked vegetables--a cauliflower salad (actually it was broccoflower but I couldn't taste broccoli), beets and greens, and an ear of corn that needed to be used. Elizabeth and I feasted on that and the roast chicken she had brought, though she won't eat my beets! Drat!
 

Ah, domesticity!

Sometimes I get in the mood for a domestic day--and today was it. Trips to two grocery stores this morning, although of course I already have a list of what I didn't get, and cooking tonight. For a while I was out of the cooking mood, but I'm back in it.
Guess the grocery store wore me out because I came too close for comfort to sleeping past time to get Jacob. Came awake with a start--I'd turned off the alarm twenty minutes earlier--and flew into cotton knit pants and a T-shirt, the outfit Jacob calls my "jammies." I asked him if he was embarrassed, and he said yes. Thank  you, Jacob. No one else seemed to notice. Nor did they notice that I was almost stumbling because I'd been so sound asleep--one of those dreams where you're two layers down into dreams. Fortunately he was far from the last child left on the playground.
Nice surprise for him: Meredith, my next-door neighbor, took Jacob and her two (Abby, four, and Grayson, one) to ride the park train--brave girl. I told Jacob to mind Meredith, which I knew he would, but forgot to tell him to watch out for Abby. No need. Meredith said at the first bridge, he threw his arm across her and said, "I have to hold on to you just in case." Obviously, Abby thinks he's a hero, as shown in this picture.

Jacob and his daddy had supper with me on the porch--that pork roast bits I wrote about in Potluck with Judy (http://potluckwithjudy.blogspot.com/2012/03/boiled-porkoh-come-on-now-with-black.html). The salad was special--first greens from my gutter garden. Jacob, predictably, did not like the meat. But Christian and I lingered over wine on the porch and had a nice visit while Jacob captured roly-polys and created a home for them in an ice cream cup.
It was late when I started to fix bbq--but it's all cooking merrily away in the crockpot now. After going to all the trouble to make the sauce--and it is a bit of trouble--I nearly forgot to turn the crockpot on. It was plugged in, wasn't it? What more does it need? Potatoes are cooked, and tomorrow I'll finish up the bbq and make potato salad--all for neighbor Jay's b'day dinner Sunday night. I am so glad to be back in a cooking mood.
Monday I'm fixing a strange chicken salad for Elizabeth--we're going to work on her memoir. But since she's gluten free I thought to just fix a big tossed salad with a vinaigrette--until I found this on Pinterest: chicken, lime juice, salt, cilantro, and garlic. Think I'll add some scallions, since I have them in my garden. Or maybe serve the scallions separately, with salt to dip them in. I remember that from my childhood. So good when they're fresh out of the ground--or, in this case, the gutter.
And then it's on to Easter dinner--the $8,000 leg of lamb with a gratin of potatoes, onions, and tomatoes. But more about that later.
I'm taking a vacation from writing--and from my conscience. Such fun!