Monday, September 7, 2015

From Curried Tofu To Baked Potatoes And All That Is In-Between





Gibson did not want me to take his picture but we all had a good time at Japanica! and someday I need to take a picture of my Bento Box with curried tofu but I always forget and just start destroying it immediately. I love it because although I always order the same thing, the green curry tofu always comes with different vegetables and they are always delicious. Owen ate all his miso soup, TWO salads, and all of his sushi. Oh, how that child loves Japanica!
There was a little boy there, probably about two, the child of someone who works there obviously, and he kept strolling out of the kitchen, chewing on sheets of seaweed. He was so precious I wanted to scoop him up and kiss him but of course we can't do things like that. He and Gibson made friends though, and before we knew it, the little boy had taken Gibson out to where the Lion's Club (I think) has placed a box of candy for people to take a piece and donate some money and were just about to plunder it when they were discovered.


Here's everyone but me. Please note Owen's daughters. He brought them in a knapsack. They are very shy but they did come out to eat some edamame beans. 

I brought the boys home and I was not feeling at the top of my Mer Mer game but they are sweet and good boys and all went well. I slammed my finger in a pocket door and I'm pretty sure it's not broken but it's swollen up good and made me curse when it happened. Hurt like hell. We played the matching game again and the boys gave me a make-over which was so extreme that even Owen suggested I wash my face in order not to scare my husband. I looked like a Celt or something. Lots of blue. We played hide-the-stuffed-animals and the boys played tea party. We fed biscuits to the chickens and the boys watched more Sponge Bob than was probably necessary. They also took a long and very energetic shower. They are clean. Trust me. 
Jason was late getting off work. Now that he's a manager, it's never quite cut in stone as to when he'll be able to leave. He was exhausted when he got here but I had fed the boys a pancake supper and they'd had their showers so hopefully, they can go straight to bed when they get home. Both he and Lily work so very, very hard. I am in awe of them and love them for being the incredible parents they are. When the boys left, Owen's words to me as they were pulling out of the driveway were, "Give Boppy a hug and a kiss and tell him I love him!" This sort of thing does not happen by accident. 

In the midst of all of this, Mr. Moon left for auction and so here I am, alone in the quiet. I have a potato in the oven. That is what I want for my supper. A baked potato. 
It's been that sort of day. I want a baked potato, all salty and warm and delicious. I remember when I was a child and the "elegant" restaurants brought out those little stainless steel servers with sour cream and bacon and chives to add to your potato. 
Remember that? 
And the same sort of stainless steel things they brought out with the salad? They held Thousand Island dressing, French dressing, and Roquefort. 
Simpler, more comforting times. 

Except for the, you know, Civil Rights movement straining in its birth pangs and the Viet Nam war and the threat of nuclear annihilation. 
Yeah. Good times. 

We move on, we move back. Things change. Nothing changes. 

Potatoes pretty much stay the same. And little boys. And pregnant ladies. And how grandmas feel about their grandchildren. 

Time to put the chickens up.  I hope that tonight a possum doesn't fall through the dog door like one did last night, freaking the fuck out of me. I was sitting here, five feet away when it did that and my immediate thought was, "That is the clumsiest cat I have ever seen."
Too much nature and yet, just enough. 

Love...Ms. Moon



9 comments:

  1. oh my, memories you conjured up for me. Baked potato with those little steel/metal containers of sour cream, chives and butter. On rare occaisions that our folks took us out to dinner, I always felt very grown up when my baked potato arrived at the table.....with ALL the condiments I had asked for and longed for. Thanks for that memory!!!!!!! And...... your family is beautiful. Your two daughters radiant........ everyone loved and happy and that makes ME happy too!
    Hope your finger is not broken........
    Susan M

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  2. Good Lord! How did you get the possum OUT?

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  3. Yes, what Elizabeth said! Don't leave us hanging like that, pleeeease!

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  4. OK, this is what, in the news business, we call "burying the lead."

    A POSSUM FELL INTO YOUR HOUSE???

    What did you do? Did it leave willingly?

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  5. Beautiful pictures of your family.

    That is one reason I could not have a doggy door. There is too much nature around here. I have a cousin that woke up one morning with a strange dog in her bed. I would hate to wake up to a raccoon or worse. Gail

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  6. Susan M- Those baked potatoes were the best! And of course they were always served with steaks! The good ol' days...
    I don't think my finger is broken but it sure is smashed.

    Elizabeth- I left the porch and he disappeared.

    jenny_o- See above.

    Steve Reed- It just didn't occur to me that this was such big news.

    Gail- Haha! A strange dog in her bed! That's awesome! And a little scary.

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  7. My 17 year old granddaughter made me cry this morning. she sent me the essay she had to write for a school class about one thing she believes in and OMG it was all about me and the things I taught her growing up and my love of nature and how it has enriched her life and and...

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  8. Ellen's comment made me tear up.
    Grandkids are the most precious things ever.
    Ever.

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  9. Ellen Abbott- That is the most beautiful thing I can imagine! Wow. I so hope that my grandchildren feel that way about me.

    Heartinhand- I know. It's so true.

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