Saturday, September 26, 2015
I am still absurdly wiped by this cold (it's just a cold! why am I so sick???), but nonetheless: Many events of note have occurred and should be, er, noted. There is much to celebrate at Chez Chardonnay!
First: Both Mimosa and Martini auditioned for the highly prestigious, highly competitive Madrigal Singers last week . . .
. . . and both made it!! We are over-the-moon happy!!!!
(Plus, this makes the school commute so much easier.)
Still to be determined: whether Martini can be both a Madrigal and a member of the band, as band rehearsals overlap with the Mads two days a week. We were told last spring he could do both, so I'm not sure what has changed. But as much as enjoys playing his glockenspiel, Martini is in love with singing — he knows what he will choose if he has to choose. The high school band teacher is kinda legendary, though; Husband and I devoutly hope that our boy can do both.
Second: My marriage turns 22 today!!!
It's the copper anniversary. Intriguing. I like this idea:
So far we're celebrating our anniversary separately; I'm doing chores (natch), while Husband is at church for a Worship Associate training. But tonight . . . tonight . . .
. . . tonight we Time Warp!!!! We're taking the kids and a friend of Mimosa's to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show live and onstage!!! We are very excited.
And we kicked off our celebration weekend with a most excellent dinner party at the home of our oldest couple friends, my Alterna-Husband and his lovely wife. They had invited a new young couple as well, and it was great fun.
So far, my Year of Yes is off to a bit of a lame start; I had to beg out of my church acquaintance's birthday party because I was still under the weather, health-wise, and I haven't been invited to do anything else! But the year's young, lots of YES lies ahead, I have no doubt.
Time to resume my exciting afternoon: vacuuming and blowing my nose 73 more times. Happy anniversary to me.
Thursday, September 17, 2015
On Sunday, I was a glamorous urban gal, taking in some live theater with my girl Brunie, dining at Za, traveling by taxi and T — ooh la la! I also co-starred in a brief and deeply stupid playlet at church on the topic of Rosh Hashanah.
And then on Monday I woke up dying. I don't know where I got this cold; no one else in the house has it, and I haven't had close contact with those walking poxes we call "small children."
But I am very sick, still, after four days; my head is enormous and swollen and packed with snot; my sinuses are lined with sandpaper; my ears itch; every part of me aches, including my eyelashes, including my toenails, including my hairline.
I'm also working like a madwoman; after two weeks of editing indolence and sloth, I've now billed 39 1/2 hours — since Monday.
Anyway. I'm too wrung-out to write a zippy and/or inspirational blog post (am I not known for my zippy inspiration?), but I'm waiting for Mimosa to finish showering before I draw my bath, and posting seemed like a good thing to do.
Book report: I am enjoying the three library books I'm reading, so far:
And I just heard that the latest Tana French is waiting for me; I haven't read all of her books, and they're technically a series, but this one sounds really good.
My brain is so clogged and stupit, though, I'll probably just read PEOPLE magazine in my bathtub and drink hot tea and moan a little.
Off to do just that. Honk, blow, wheeze, ow.
p.s. The play we saw was "Boys in the Band" starring our talented pal Handsome D (we are total groupies). Such a grim little slice of late '60s' life, but the two hours flew by, and the acting is sublime. Handsome D is truly heartbreaking; Brunie and I were beside ourselves. The show runs till October 3; if you're near Boston, check it out!!
Thursday, September 3, 2015
I still think about getting stronger — every day! — which I suppose is better than thinking about eating fudge or something, but it is HOT here and I quickly grow weary.
I also had a grand idea: Since waking up in time for school is such a rude shock to the system every single September, how about if we spend the week before school getting used to rising at 7 — and to sweeten the deal, we could have breakfast at a different diner every morning? Everyone loves this idea!! Though, as expected, I am still the first one up and have to haul everyone else out of bed. This might be cute if they were all 7 — but they are 14, 18, and 61, plenty old enough to get themselves up.
One would think.
So we've been playing this week, and it's been great fun. Yesterday we mini-golfed in Saugus and in lieu of a diner breakfast, we had lunch at Fuddrucker's.
- Me: What's more fun than Fuddruckin'?
- Mimosa: Fudd-nothin'!
|Golf my way!|
Strength training will resume when the weather turns cooler. Sorry to be a weenie, but I just can't.
Here's what I'm reading (in front of a fan, feet up, with an icy drink by my side):
Keep cool, friends!
— Lady C, a hot chick
I have only three words to say about the pancakes at Deluxe Town Diner:
OH. EM. GEE.
I have never had such flavorful pancakes in my life!! They're even better than the ones I make at home!! And I will only admit this very grudgingly.
The menu says they're made with sour cream and buttermilk. Mine are made with buttermilk as well; maybe I'll try adding sour cream . . .
My one and only quibble, which may be where Lunch Box Diner has the edge, is that the intense pancake-y flavor slightly diminished the flavor of the blueberries. What I love about Lunch Box is that the blueberries in the pancakes are so prominent — they are the blueberriest blueberry pancakes I've ever had. Well, we'll put it to the test tomorrow . . .
. . . even though I am NEVER EATING AGAIN.
Two pancakes the size of my head. I feel like Lard Lass.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
It's been a busy couple of weeks! I can report that Li'l Martini loves his new big-boy room (I only call it that in my mind) and he laughed hard over one of my innovations: I found a secret poem that he'd written about me tucked amongst his papers, so I framed it and put it on his dresser. I assured him that it didn't have to stay there, but he hasn't moved it yet.
In said poem, he compares me to a sweet-smelling Chuck Norris (I am just that tough and fierce). It's pretty awesome.
Then it was time to ready the fam for a five-day D.C. visit — me, Husband, two less-than-enthusiastic teens, and my 73-year-old mom, who called me several days before flying out and asked, "Now, do I have wheelchairs arranged at all the airports?" This was disturbing on so many levels:
- We were about to take a walking-intensive trip together
- She can walk — she belongs to a gym, for God's sake! Why is she determined to be more disabled than she actually is?
- How is this my responsibility??? She doesn't love doing things on the computer, but she can certainly call an airline.
Also, please note that never once did I use the word vacation to refer to this event. I would have to be the Person In Charge. It would be in no way a vacation.
But I am so relieved and happy to announce that the trip was a huge success, everyone had a great time, we saw so much cool stuff, and Mom did a TON of walking, getting stronger every day. I will report in more detail once I have all our pictures (Mom's are the old-fashioned kind, on real film, so once they're developed I will have to scan them) and have written up my travel diary notes.
Ironically, the hotel amenities I was looking forward to were more or less a bust: The a.c. was lovely in the common room but less robust in the bedrooms, and the hot tub was out of service for our entire visit. C'est la vie! We were perfectly comfy, and I still had fun. (Wine helped.)
But on another note: The entire trip was such a wake-up call for me. Watching how my mom struggled to get around (and indeed, noting how tired I got as well, despite my supportive and comfy walking shoes) was a come-to-Jesus moment. I am not as strong as I used to be, and I have much less endurance. Some of this is due to age, I'm sure, but much of it is due to neglect. Like Mom, I got stronger over this trip, and I am determined to keep up my momentum. I am too young to be this old!!!!
STRENGTH. That is my new watchword. Every single day, I will do something to make myself stronger, even if I only have time for a little something. But I am determined.
By the way: All this walking resulted in no weight loss whatsoever. I think restaurant food and daily wine consumption with Mom were an effective counterbalance. Disappointing!!!
Today I am doing my chores (I missed Chore Day, due to an all-day retreat at my church) and writing up retreat notes, but I will get a good workout in there as well: biking and weight-lifting and knee PT and core work.
STRENGTH. You will hear this from me a lot from now on!
— Lady C, Samson-in-training
p.s. My "Year of Yes" has gotten off to a rollicking start: Not two hours after posting this proclamation, I got invited to a birthday party for one of my church's quirkiest birds. But I'm available . . . what can I do. "Yes!" I typed, cursing myself. It will be interesting — but I can't even con Kind Tina into going with me, and she is the kindest person in the world, so that should give you an idea of how odd a duck we're talking about here.