The Good, The Bad, And I Feel Ugly

Two things saved today from being a complete shit-show. The first was that I stopped at the library on my way in to town and was so very thrilled to find the new Larry McMurtry biography on the shelf. 

Not the handsomest man who ever lived but he was loved by many women, including Diane Keaton and Cybill Shepherd who said he was the love of her life. When he died he was married to Ken Kesey's widow so I guess he had more than looks to bring to the table. 

This book has gotten some excellent reviews and besides promising to be a very interesting biography, it's also about the man who has written some of my favorite books, many of which I have read over and over again. The times in my life when I have been in sheer terror panic anxiety mode, McMurtry's books were the only ones I could manage to read. His parallel universes of strong, eccentric women, oil riggers, half-crazy Texas Rangers and plain old cowboys took me in and gave me another place to be rather than the world I was too anxious to bear living in. 

So that was a great thing- finding that book. I don't think it has ever been read. Don't you miss that card in library books that listed the history of the dates they'd been checked out? I do. 

And then things sort of went downhill. I had asked Mr. Moon if he wanted to meet me for lunch in town as he had errands to run too. He said he did and so we met up at The Wharf, which I mention here frequently. But while we were eating, he got a phone call from a friend whose brother had died and so I ate my lunch while he did his best to comfort his friend, to talk about hunting and fishing and all those things. I understand that he wanted to be there for the guy. That was important. But it just made me feel so low. He apologized profusely when he got off the phone and I surely accept that apology but sometimes things make you feel the way they make you feel and there's not fuck-all you can do about it. 

But the other thing that happened that helped was that there was an older lady sitting at the table next to us with what might have been her daughter or granddaughter. She was so elegant, this woman. Absolutely turned out in a beautiful white sweater and a skirt that I admired. She had her hair up and was wearing big gold hoop earrings. Her profile spoke of distant ancestors who were queens. 
I wanted to be her when I grow up. 
They left right before we did and as she passed our table, she smiled and said hello and then she said, "You are wearing a beautiful dress."
Oh, my heart. 
It was the first flannel dress I got a month or so ago and nothing about me felt beautiful at that moment but I took that compliment and I told her, quite honestly, that I had been admiring her skirt. 

And then on to a UPS store where I needed to get a return label printed and the return mailed and the woman helping me was so rude. I'm sure she was tired and completely over the post-Christmas returns they were surely dealing with but when my technological abilities did not meet her expectations, she put her head down and sighed heavily, and then reached for my phone and did what she had wanted me to do herself and I felt shamed and very old. Also angry- who DOES that? Grab someone's phone and do stuff on it without asking?

Did I point this out? 
Of course not. I thanked her and left. 

So after all of that, Costco and Publix were fine, fine, fine. Whatever. Too crowded, both of them. 

I do believe that Owen is better. He's going hunting with his dad tomorrow so I assume he is. 

There was a recipe in today's NYT's cooking newsletter that I am going to attempt for our supper tonight. 

It's a hot and sour dumpling soup and that sounds so good to me. I've picked a few different types of greens from the garden to slice thinly and add in and I do believe there will be some noodles involved too. I've got frozen dumplings so this should be easy and a good antidote to the rich foods we've been eating with its ginger and mushrooms and tofu and greens. I've got the chicken broth in the refrigerator, all ready to go, saved from when I made the Christmas chicken salad. 

I love to read the comments on the recipes the Times publishes and my favorite one on this recipe was this, from Naomi:

"For all the commenters loftily informing us this recipe isn’t authentic, thanks for the help, but the frozen dumplings were a giveaway even for us peasants."

Thank you, Naomi! 

You gotta laugh. 

Love...Ms. Moon