Today is going to be a very full day. We're having a family gathering/birthday party since the newlyweds are in town and Jessie's birthday was a few weeks ago and May's is coming up next Friday. There's going to be bean salad and hamburgers of both the meat and veggie variety, and grouper and regular salad and fruit salad and apple cake with caramel icing.
If I get moving here, that is.
And there's also talk of Boppy taking Owen fishing this morning.
My right eye has developed a twitch which is not surprising.
It's so funny how, when I was younger, I truly thought that life would become more settled, less complicated when the kids grew up. This has turned out not to be true in the least. I keep having fantasies of running off to live in a shack in Mexico, my entire day consisting of a walk by the ocean to the mercado where I might buy three tortillas, an egg and a mango, and then taking them back to my shack to eat them.
Of course this will never happen and I have no idea what will happen as this life progresses but no matter what, I do believe I will be spending time in a kitchen for the rest of my years. This is fine with me. There is no place I feel more at home than in the kitchen.
Last night before Owen left and we were having a Friday night cocktail hour, I asked him if he would like for me to make him a frozen pizza. He thought about this for a moment and then he said, "No. I want a hot pizza." Which only makes sense and reminded me of when Jessie was a little girl and was best friends with the little boy next door. They were playing at the house one day and Jessie wanted a grilled cheese sandwich. I asked Lewis, her friend, if he, too, would like a grilled cheese sandwich.
"No," he said. Lewis was a man of few words.
"Mommy," Jessie piped up, "Lewis doesn't want a GIRL cheese sandwich. He wants a BOY cheese sandwich."
"Do you want a boy cheese sandwich?" I asked Lewis.
"Yes," he said.
And so I made him one.
And last night I heated up a frozen pizza and made it into a hot pizza and we all sat on the porch and the adults had martinis and Owen had an orange and pineapple juice in a fancy glass with a straw and he insisted that we all bump glasses, which we did, and someone said, "What are we toasting to?" and Owen said that we weren't toasting anything, merely bumping glasses.
There may be some bumping of glasses today along with the eating of many salads. And so it will go.
It is a beautiful day, Mr. Moon has already taken the trash, the chickens are out scratching and pecking, the kitchen is full of things for me to chop and slice and combine and prepare and as long as I can do these things, I know I have a purpose in life.
Time to go sharpen the knives and look up my recipe for MeMaw's caramel icing.
Much love...Ms. Moon