Chili and confessions.

Despite the chili, damp weather the weekend has been enjoyable. So far. Mr. Macho and I went to town yesterday and enjoyed going to the "junque" stores. They all claim to be antique stores. But. There is more junk than antiques. Mimi asked me to be on the look out for a rocker. She is going to be a grandmother and needs a rocker in her house. She also asked for me to look at dressers that could be converted into a dressing table. So off we went. I found some interesting pieces. I snapped pictures with my phone and messaged them to Mimi. I liked one rocker in particular but would not dare buy it without her on site approval. It was inexpensive. But still.

We enjoyed looking at the multitude of old stuff in the stores. We worked up a little appetite and opted to stop at Bojangles for fried chicken. It was a mistake. The chicken took 30 minutes to get to our table. No. They weren't busy. Quite the opposite. So much for fast food. Mr. Macho declared, "I have BEEN to Bojangles!!" And we all know what that means. That means we won't be going back in this millennium.

Office Depot was right out back of the restaurant and I wanted to check out a wireless router and external hard drive. I ended up with both those items plus a new modem and ink cartridges for my printer. Home. Try to set up. Failed. On phone for 30+ with Cableone then Linksys. Got disconnected. @#%%$&%^&%&#@@#@%!!! Go next door. Ask our wonderful, tech-savy neighbor to rescue me. And he did. He is a really great guy and good neighbor. Thanks Steve!

We watched a movie last night. One with Reese Witherspoon and Vince Vaughn. Not a great movie but there was this one scene when a baby threw up on Reese and Vince was dry heaving... and it was so hysterical that when the movie was over we watched it again and laughed our heads off. Really. Heads on the living room floor.

Confession. Our heads really aren't on the floor. And. One more thing. One scene in the movie last night when Reese's Dad reached for her hand to say a blessing at the table caught me off guard and made me tear up. It struck me in a sharp way. I miss Dad. I miss seeing him. I miss the idea that he is tangible.

Now I have a pot of black bean and turkey chili cooking. Later we are going to attend a lecture on some local history. I know Mr. Macho will enjoy that. He is a history kind of guy. That's his bag, baby.

Even later some of his family is coming over to visit. That will be nice.

And so. I face another week. Things to do. Busy-ness. I am trying to finish the granny square afghan that Dad watched me start.

Hope your week is full of fun. Be sweet. Do your best.

Food.

So far - I have lost a few more pounds than I had planned on the Weight Watcher diet. That is fine by me. At this point I am not really writing down my points. I am being mindful of portions and choices. It is challenging sometimes. But doable.
Monday Paulette (sister) and I had lunch together to celebrate both our birthdays. We ate downtown at The Front Door Restaurant. New owners. Same food. The cream soup is still good. It was cream of asparagus on Tuesday. The new owner came by our table was was amiable.
Yesterday 3 of my dance girlfriends and I ate at the Continental Market Bistro downtown. Small. Quiet. I had a smoked salmon sandwich. It was very tasty. It was on a flaky bread. I think it was called bolio bread. I recommend that sandwich.
Last night I attempted fish tacos for the first time. I have eaten them before. Never made them. I baked some swai fillets that I had in the freezer. Lemon juice and a dusting of chili power was all I put on them. I made a slaw with a vinaigrette dressing. I used garlic and cumin and a little salt and lemon pepper in the dressing. Condiments were salsa, cheese, plain greek yogurt. I forgot to slice the red onion that I bought specifically for the tacos. Mr. Macho declared them good and asked that I cook that again. Ah. Success.
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I am on to another crochet project. Last week I made 9 hats while at Mom's. Sister from Virginia had requested I make some for her to take home to use as gifts. Now I am crocheting a tote bag. Multicolored. I think it will be fun looking.
I have yet to finish my sunflower afghan. All I have to do is crochet the squares together. I am stalled. I will try to do a few a day. No promises, though.
***
I love my new steam mop. Used it yesterday for the first time. Will get the rest of the floors done this afternoon or tomorrow. Have things to do this morning.
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Maybe today I will get my Christmas door mats put away. Maybe.
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Be sweet. Do your best.

I am back.

Last week was a healing week for me. I spent it with Mom. She is doing very well. We had lots of talks about what the future might look like for her. What kind of care/help she will need. At least twice, if not three times a day the subject would come up. We hashed and rehashed. The other popular topic of conversation was about Mom's "regularity". I understand that as you get older it becomes a central focus. In good taste I will say no more. (I am laughing.) 

Thank you, Daughter, for calling me yesterday and reminding me of the song "100 Years". I listened to it this morning and had a good cry. Ever since that song first came out I would think of Mom and Dad every time I heard it - knowing that sooner or later one of them would lose the other. And now more than ever...

"100 Years"

I'm 15 for a moment

Caught in between 10 and 20

And I'm just dreaming

Counting the ways to where you are

I'm 22 for a moment

She feels better than ever

And we're on fire

Making our way back from Mars

15 there's still time for you

Time to buy and time to lose

15, there's never a wish better than this

When you only got 100 years to live

I'm 33 for a moment

Still the man, but you see I'm a they

A kid on the way

A family on my mind

I'm 45 for a moment

The sea is high

And I'm heading into a crisis

Chasing the years of my life

15 there's still time for you

Time to buy, Time to lose yourself

Within a morning star

15 I'm all right with you

15, there's never a wish better than this

When you only got 100 years to live

Half time goes by

Suddenly you’re wise

Another blink of an eye

67 is gone

The sun is getting high

We're moving on...

I'm 99 for a moment

Dying for just another moment

And I'm just dreaming

Counting the ways to where you are

15 there's still time for you

22 I feel her too

33 you’re on your way

Every day's a new day...

15 there's still time for you

Time to buy and time to choose

Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this

When you only got 100 years to live

***

I continue to endeavor to meet my own New Year's challenge to do my best. 

Much to do around here after being gone for an entire week. Better get a move on. 

Do your best.

This is my mantra for the new year. I borrowed it from a local editorial that was in print on New Year's Eve. A quaint story about an elderly friend. And so I adopt it as my own this year. I will try. To do my best. That is it. No more resolutions. No more promises.
Oh. And that includes trying not to say naughty words. So don't tempt me. Be nice.
Lots to get done this weekend so that I can go keep Mom company next week. Am planning to bring my yarns with me so I can crochet while there.
Have tried to eat healthy this week. Good salads with avocados. Yum. Last night I made some home made tomato soup. Love it. Tonight it will be chicken and wild rice soup. Tomorrow I am cooking red beans and rice. Maybe I can take some with me to Mom's.
Sweet sympathy cards arrive every day. The sentiments have touched me like I didn't expect. It feels like a cocoon of comfort that people are concerned and praying for me and my family. I feel cared for. It is good to know this on the receiving end.
I must go to work now. Scrubbing bathrooms and changing sheets that should have been changed last week. Chasing dust off the furniture.
Peace. Be sweet. And. Do your best.

Short post.

A few quick words and then I must start to put Christmas back in a box.

How do I start? Dad died early morning. New Years Day. One week ago today. I drove down on Thursday. Funeral and burial on Saturday. All my brothers and sisters and their spouses were present. 29 out of 30 grandchildren were able to be there. Oldest grandchild gave the eulogy. It was spot on. The rain held off until Sunday. A blessing.

We now begin the task of taking care of Mom. It will be a process. She is 92. Virtually deaf. And 92. She and Dad would have celebrated 70 years on March 7. And now she will reinvent herself? At 92? Life continues to be interesting.

Rest. In peace.

My sweet Daddy.