There are days when you just want to go to Paul’s Pasta and eat Italian food.
Especially on a gray January afternoon in New England.
Banjo Man decided on Thursday that we needed a field trip. We waited until daughter Nancy had the day off and off we went. Also on the agenda? A stop in Mystic to a photo-developing lab, then some strolling through the little shops at the Mystic Seaport. The kitchen store is always a hit, as was a beautiful jewelry store that is Nancy’s favorite. We resisted fudge and olive oil, but I did buy a Viking refrigerator magnet.
We were home before dark with leftovers and desserts. Banjo Man and Nancy moved the empty china cupboard down to the basement. I replanted my aloe plant and moved an old iron plant stand to the now empty corner of the dining area.
Guess who is terrible at having his picture taken? Believe it or not, he was having a great time!
Monday I went to a new lab for a round of blood tests. My oncologist hoped to discover why I was so tired other than being 72 and deep into the annual winter blahs.
Note: Turns out I am fine, just anemic. Easily dealt with.
The waiting room held several very ancient people. Okay, more than several. Quite a few staggered in and out of the doors to the exam rooms.
When my name was called, I followed a 40’ish woman through the door to a small, open area in the hallway. As she entered my five pages of orders into the computer, I watched as more very, very old patients managed somehow to navigate past. One woman stopped and, leaning on her cane, stared at us. She was obviously annoyed at having to wait her turn.
The lab lady, clearly out of patience, told her to go to the waiting room and wait to be called. Which she did, but not without huffily announcing her displeasure.
The lab lady rolled her eyes at me (we were wearing masks, per order of the hospital group) and muttered something, which led to me say, “I’ve never been here before. There are an awful lot of elderly people in this place. Is it because it’s so close to Brightview?”
Brightview is a nearby complex of Independent Living, Assisted Living and Memory Care buildings.
She shrugged and started feeling my arm for a good vein. “I don’t know.”
“I mean, I’m no spring chicken, but there just seems to be a lot of very elderly people.”
She stopped, needle paused above my skin. “What? Spring chicken?”
“Yes,” I repeated. “I’m no spring chicken and I have the white hair but I like to think I’m a little–”
“Spring chicken! That is SO FUNNY!” She started laughing. I mean, really laughing. She eventually apologized, took a deep breath and stuck the needle into my arm.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shoulders shaking. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”
“That’s okay,” I assured her, realizing she had never heard the phrase before.
She laughed through four vials of blood and putting on the band-aid. When I stood to leave and grab my coat, she thanked me for making her day.
And then this spring chicken walked in a lively manner down the hall, through the waiting room and down the stairs to the parking lot.
These sugar cookies are supposed to represent the Green Bay Packers and the Dallas Cowboys.
I took them to Jeff and Angela’s Sunday afternoon, as we were invited over to play Mexican Train dominoes and eat chili. Perfect way to spend a Sunday, right?
While I was the biggest loser at dominoes, the chili was the best I’d ever eaten in my whole life. And yes, Angela shared the recipe.
Much to the Funny Grandson’s heartbreak and despair, the Cowboys played dismally and lost. Season over. Will the coach be fired? Will Coach Belichick be hired? Or will he accept Atlanta’s offer? They’ve made it known they want to hire him.
I have watched way too many hours of sports talk tv shows. Can you tell?
Last night we watched “Kelce”, the documentary of Jason Kelce filmed last year. It was hard to understand why he returned for another season–the big man is clearly beat up and hurting–but he loves the game. I hope his emotional retirement announcement after Monday night’s defeat to the Buccaneers holds up.
So…back to cookies. What colors will they be next weekend? I’m rooting for the Texans. And the Bills. And the Detroit Lions, because they are so clearly an underdog.
Banjo Man and I went out to dinner Saturday night. Yes, it was an official “date night”. Can you believe this sunset?
We don’t often see such a glorious sky, as we live in the woods and rarely venture out in the early evening.
January 12 was the 54th anniversary of our first date, but we celebrated on Saturday. The restaurant staff was lovely about it.
Dinner was delicious, as it always is at Ella’s. We finished off the evening with a stop at CVS for eye drops (me) and the rare purchase of mini ice cream bars for dessert.
Quite pleased with ourselves, we were happily back on the couch by 7:00, which is a very good time to be home on a cold and windy January night.
I love to hear stories of how people met. Blind dates, a chat in a bar, set up by friends, co-workers who have a spark, a random meeting in a coffee shop? Somehow the magic happens!
Writing about romance was my career for over thirty years, but I still want to hear how people found each other, how they recognized “the one”.
Nothing ruins a peaceful lap around the driveway than an encounter with a bobcat.
Banjo Man did not take this photo. It came from iStock, online.
American Bobcat – This is my most popular photo and one of the few of a REAL bobcat listed on iStockPhoto. This bobcat was not camera shy and seems to have posed for this picture.
The bobcat had been sitting on a stump at the edge of the driveway. He’d watched Banjo Man come around to his side of the oval and wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Once they exchanged stares, the bobcat slowly left the stump and slinked into the woods, but not before stopping one more time to look over his shoulder to see if the man in the giant black coat had dared to follow him.
Banjo Man raced into the safety of the house to declare, “I am never walking at dusk again!”
This morning we’re in the middle of another rain-and-wind storm. Gusting up to 66 mph, the wind is roaring outside. So far no trees have blown down and we have not lost power. Many towns in the state continue to deal with historic flooding–and that was before this new storm dumped another 1-2″ of rain overnight.
Just received a warning email from the electric company. I’m going to post this now before the power goes out.
Enjoy the weekend. We are looking forward to the playoff games!
See the layout of the blocks? I didn’t, because I assumed I knew exactly how these blocks were sewn together.
I didn’t, not until this morning when I turned to page 112 of “Quilts by the Sea” to check the number of blocks I needed in order to make this quilt longer.
Uh-oh. They are supposed to be staggered: one up, one down.
I picked this particular quilt design because it was so simple. I designed one row at a time and made a relaxing day and a half out of the process of selecting fabric and cutting simple squares and rectangles. Result? I was a bit too relaxed. Complacent, even.
The good news? Well, I’ve only sewn two rows together.
And…my daughter-in-law gave me a new seam ripper for Christmas.
These are empty. EMPTY. But the removal of them and their contents has not resulted in a cleaner, more organized, roomier office/sewing room.
Why not? I don’t know. I’m baffled.
Then there is this:
It’s empty, but right now it’s not going anywhere. Banjo Man is not at all interested in moving it somewhere else, so there it sits until we figure out how to get it out of the house.
Do any of you want it?
Remember the four boxes of vintage flowers?
They are on their way to Montana. Retired Mountain Lady’s daughter-in-law loves all things vintage so, along with the buttons, they are heading west to be made into pretty things. Enjoy, Julie!
I’m going to take a break from decluttering and make some pretty things, too.
Total snow? Two inches. Rain, wind and icy roads. Further north totals exceeded 10″.
And we of course stayed home. There was football. There was food. Why go anywhere?
Banjo Man made a pot of Texas-style pinto beans, I put together a pan of ham and cheese sliders and also baked Amish custard. My happy husband took this picture and wanted it posted here.
I’m actually happier about my empty island. Lots of progress was made yesterday when it came to putting the kitchen and dining areas back together. The cabinet is empty and awaits its fate.
Yes, the peaches are from Idaho.
Thank you, Peach Man.
More storms are coming, so I’ve had to postpone attending tomorrow night’s Pilates Reformer class. I’m sad about that. I even bought a yoga-suitable top at TJMaxx last Friday morning. And the Pilates socks arrived from Amazon.
I am ready, once the weather cooperates. In the meantime I will continue with chair yoga (“Yoga Go”) and gorge on peaches.
We might be getting a snowstorm tonight and all day tomorrow.
Maybe.
The local tv weathermen seem to be having a pretty good time charting the possibilities.
At one point this week the forecast was for “between 1 and 12 inches”. Ha! I love it.
But as of this morning I think we’re supposed to get nothing but rain here on the coast. Maybe a little sleet. Since Banjo Man and I have no plans to go out tonight or tomorrow, it doesn’t matter.
Here’s what my Saturday looks like:
Tomorrow I hope to baste a quilt on the kitchen island if the kitchen island is cleaned off and ready for action. The Patriots are playing the Jets in Foxboro during the snowstorm, so it should be a wild game.
is there any more pie? 