My kind of day

Yesterday I was in a funk. I started the day with a teeth cleaning, which took a good chunk of my working time out of the morning. Then thing after thing piled on my desk--who knew I'd agreed to judge a contest? Why did people send me pdfs for the newsletter when I can't work with them (probably my basic program plus lack of computer expertise)? When am I going to read that book for my class? Homework with Jacob seemed interminable, and I had to firmly convince him that I had not made the deal he said I did--yes, he alphabetized those words. Even a belated birthday dinner at LaMadeleine with Jordan and Jacob didn't cheer me much, though it was good and fun (Jordan's great car wreck happened on my actual birthday). At the end of the day, knowing I'd written over 2000 words, I was still in a funk.  This morning Elizabeth offered an opinion that hit home: she said every time I go to the dentist, I'm in a funk for the entire day. Hope she hasn't jinxed me for future dental appointments. I really like the hygienist.
Today was much more to my liking--I had no obligations until I got Jacob at three. I wrote 1700 words, worked on the upcoming issue of the newsletter, did my yoga, and did a bit of reading on The Virginian for my class--it's been years since I've read it. Jacob's homework went smoothly, and the world seems in its place.
Sophie likes this kind of a day too, because she's inside with me, except for occasional trips to the back yard. This afternoon, she cuddled with Jacob while he sat in a big, comfy chair and played on the iPad for a few minutes. That dog is so spoiled--she doesn't realize what the world is like for many dogs. I think, though, she senses Elizabeth is leaving us because when we meet for wine at night, Sophie sits and stares into Elizabeth's face. "I'm so cute, how can you leave me?"
I've noticed a new pattern in my life: I like to eat lunch at home and have supper with friends because I get so much more desk work done that way. Tonight was dinner with Betty at the Blu Crab Café. We split Chilean Sea Bass with Potatoes Dauphinois, a stacked dish with some kind of tomato relish and microgreens on it. Good but rich--I couldn't have eaten the whole thing.
To top my day off, I got a birthday present from my brother and his wife today--there must be something about the full moon that calls out belated birthday celebrations. It was a package from Amazon and when I saw a gorgeous, oversize cookbook called Charcuterie my first reaction was, "I didn't order this but it sure would make a great present for John." Then I saw the note that it was from John and Cindy.
Later tonight I'll finish the day off with a glass of wine on the deck, while Elizabeth and I catch up on our days. Life is good.

Turning Six...and the man in the moon

Jacob and I had a rough time the other night. He walked right by me when he came in, and I said something about saying hello. "Juju, you just saw me yesterday!" I pointed out this was the first time I saw him that day and he could say hello, and he spread his arms expressively and said, "I"m turning six" as if that explained nonchalance. Then we had a real row when he started to help himself to a fruit bar at six o'clock. I said no because dinner would be ready in five or ten minutes. He yelled (yes, he did) that I didn't understand--he couldn't wait! I told him he could and would. He sort of got his manners back and later we had a talk and I asked what we could do about attitude. His solution, after long periods of "I'm thinking,"  was that he could be nicer to me, which I appreciated.
But any differences vanished about ten o'clock. I went out to get the little dog and was sitting on the back steps staring at the full moon. I called Jacob to see it, and we talked about  the man in the moon. He didn't see it, but after a while he said,"I see him. It's my first time." The look on his face was full of awe. We talked about green cheese, and then he wanted to know about men on the moon. I suggested if there were any, they were aliens because we'd heard no news of expeditions to the moon.
"I have an alien for a friend. He lives on the moon. His name is Jack." Jacob called "Hello, Jack" so loudly I expected the neighbors to come running. Jack apparently answered him, and Jacob called back, "Can you see me? I'm at my grandmother's house." He then told me all about Jack and asked if I saw him right by one of the eyes of the man in the moon. It was truly a magical moment with a child, and I only reluctantly said we had to go in when Sophie started chewing her leash. But Jacob insisted we both had to call goodnight to Jack.
My faith is restored. He's still my sweet boy, even if he is about to turn six.