Saturday, February 9, 2013


The Northeast was hit — smack! — with an ungodly buttload of snow last night, and today my street looked like a marshmallow creme vanilla sundae. We hemmed, we hawed, we practiced powerful avoidance, but eventually we had to face reality: No Magic Snow-Blasting Fairy was going to bail us out. Around noon, we bundled up (though my winter weather gear includes a hat I bought at the Party Store — I love it, it's roomy so I can tuck my abundant tresses into it and not get Hat Head, and it has a nice firm brim that protects my glasses from rain and snow, but it's not what anyone would describe as warm) and headed out.

And, because we are us, we promptly burst into song, though none of us sang the same thing. Husband began crooning, "We're having a heat wave, a tropical heat wave." I sang, in doleful tones of deep suffering, "Tote that barge, lift that bale. . ." Mimosa trilled, "Climb every mountain! Ford every stream!" And Martini, not to be outdone, chimed in with, "I like big butts and I cannot lie! You other brothers can't deny . . . !" The neighbors seemed entertained, particularly the 4-year-old cutiepants who lives next door and who tripped up and down the snowbanks in her snowshoes.

Martini suggested a riff-off (he's seen Pitch Perfect nineteen times), and I pointed out that none of us know songs from the same century. (I'm currently listening to Top Hits of the '50s as I wait for my yeast rolls to rise.) We did try, but once I jumped from Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow to Barbra Streisand ("I put your picture away" —> "Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind") it was all over.

It took an hour and a half to clear our walkway, my car, and the pile behind my car, and I can't call it fun, exactly, but we did laugh a lot and it was good exercise and we were all in it together. Memories are made of this, my friends.

Though now I'm kinda feeling it in my lower back. I see a hot bath and Motrin in my future.

Despite my status as a professional Math Practice Guide, I completely misread the directions on the yeast rolls I'm making, so they're just now rising, it's 6:38 p.m., I think we're eating dinner around 8. But it's going to be a good one; I just made a huge pot of Portuguese greens soup, with sausage and potatoes, and it's thick and velvety and so flavorful; I keep sneaking little bites of it. And we're having a huge green salad and red-hot apples and a perfectly ripe fresh pineapple, as well as the famous rolls (which I made with half whole-wheat flour, so they're even semi-healthy), and I'm about to make a couple batches of cookies, and we have two movies to watch — Despicable Me and Dark Shadows — and it's going to be a great Saturday night at home with my family.

I've been hanging on to this quote from Lucy Liu (who doesn't use Twitter or Facebook), thinking that there might be a blog post topic in there somewhere:
If I narrow down the things that distract me, I have a better chance of spending time with actual friends.
I don't do Facebook because of my fear of the time it will take. But does this "extra" time I save translate into more time with actual friends? Probably not. I can go weeks without seeing Good Neighbor Anne, for example, whose house I can see from my window!

Honestly, I think I'm at a stage in my life where my "friends" are my kids and Husband. Mimosa's 15; she'll be out of the house in just a few years. Martini's 12 and more social than she is; the day will come (soon!) when he no longer wants to do things with me. I've loved my kids at every age, but I love these ages best of all; I want to freeze them in amber and keep them here forever. And I definitely want to spend as much time as I can with them before they leave me!!!

But I would like to see more of my girlfriends, so that's something I'm going to work on: making sure that I have plans with at least one girlfriend every week. (Unless there's a blizzard. I would've seen Mrs. Cynicletary yesterday, but we were thwarted by snow.) That will be a fun goal.

Way more fun than reading Anna Karenina, that's for sure. But I persevere.

My weight is staying down, but no new losses to report. Next week I resume zumba, so it's time to get my head back in the game and get serious about Boot Camp February. Zanzibar suggests that we each try something new, exercise-wise, and I'm thinking about that a lot; what do I want to do besides zumba and walking and stretching and weight-lifting and core work? Nothing comes to mind . . . but I'll keep thinking on it.

Back to the kitchen — I hope your weekend is as glamorous and action-packed as mine!

—Lady C

 * Source: Brunie, who is punny and funny and wise. Also pretty and good and modest, like I.


  1. For the record, sex counts as exercise. As does snow shoveling, I am sure there are many appreciative driveways awaiting. And although it is similar to Zumba, full out party club dancing will do. I just watched the Junior Nationals at a wonderful curling club your way and that sweeping does break out a sweat. Doing kegels as your drive might not lose a lot of calories, but it is important to exercise all parts, which brings me back full circle. Just trying to be helpful...

    1. Husband thanks you PROFUSELY for your contributions to the cause! :)

    2. MR. Lady Chardonnay (aka Husband)February 10, 2013 at 10:04 PM

      Yes! Yes he Does! PROFUSELY!! You definitely should listen to your friends (what great friends you have! Really!!)!

    3. My friends love you too, honey. :)

  2. i'm glad to hear your shovelling snow and having sex - and you still have time to whip up a fabulous dinner. what a gal!
    i don't do twitter and very, very little facebook. i still keep up with my friends via phone or visits, maybe it's my age or should i say our age. :). my kids make me laugh and it will be an odd. lonely day for me when they are all grown up.
    ps still reading wolf hall page 330

    1. Oh, yeah - I can bring home the bacon AND fry it up in a pan. Hee!

      Yes, an odd lonely day indeed. But we will have our friends, both in the flesh and virtually, and that is something. And maybe our grown-up kids will be a new kind of buddy...or, maybe we'll adopt chimps to distract us from missing our cherubs. OK, I think I'm on to something, but do NOT tell Husband. :)

      We'll be reading our respective endless books till we're 100. When we both reach the last page, shall we celebrate by reading something quick and trashy together?!

  3. I'm glad you're weathering Nemo well! Your dinner sounds delicious. I can't eat wheat anymore because my body has decided to punish me for some reason - and the description of those yeast rolls about did me over. But I will live vicariously through you. You should describe in great detail every moment of eating them. Haha

    1. Oh, honey, the yeast rolls were AWFUL. So...soft. And...pillowy. And...golden and warm, and the butter pats dripped down the sides...

      Seriously, yuck. My family choked down, like, a dozen just to be polite. You missed nothing.

      (No wheat! Poor kitten! But gluten-free is the new black; you have lots and lots of choices these days. I bet there's some yummy light soy hemp bread out there just waiting for you to find it!)