A big bowl of tomatoes—so many that I can save a small bowl for the next two days (there are more ripening behind those I picked today) and throw the rest into a big pot to make a simple sauce that I will freeze for the winter. I have refrained from cooking inside during our heat wave—hot food never tastes good to me when it is hot—preferring to grill a bit of protein on my small electric grill (A nod of thanks to Cindy for gifting the grill to me when I left Madison.) and making huge salad with bought greens and herbs from the garden. Everything from the garden has more flavor and vegetables melt into one another so much more companionably than their supermarket cousins.
I let the tomatoes cook down for hours and what is left is the sweet essence of summer. I expect the pleasure long after I’ve pulled up the plants and cleaned the garden for winter.
We are quiet today with nothing planned. Some drawing, a load of wash, some editing for me and reading. Julia plays her music—Ukulele chords are just beginning to make an impression and she has a new cello piece. Then, Julia picks up her basketball and bounces it around the house until she becomes bored. She wants to go to the small park around the corner. She wants to go alone, but capitulates to my entreaty to go with her and sit far away. I am.
From yesterday: There is a puzzle on the dining room table and eggs in the kitchen ready to be made into pysanky. Hoping to encourage Julia to do a drawing a day to post here. Trying to put some kind of schedule of our days together. Loose to be sure. Motivation is lagging this morning and I haven’t made the call to nudge Julia or I into action. All I’ve done is answer a few emails and do the census online. Very, very curious about how we find our rhythm during this time. Considering all the time we have, we may just have time to live in these questions.
I made a big pot of beef stew yesterday and we have enough milk, eggs, cheese, rice and pasta to avoid markets for days. The freezer is stocked with chicken breasts, soup, puttanesca sauce and frozen potatoes. We are running out of bananas and spinach. I usually don’t think about which fruit or veggie will go bad quickly, but avoiding stores . . . . What is a reasonable and responsible amount to time between shoppings? Continue reading
After two reminder emails to my list of PTB (“Powers That Be”), Julia was picked up this morning in time to get to school on time. Her case manager texted me that her bus was on time and she was not marked late during first period. I’m holding out for a week before I ‘get off my high horse,’ as my grandma used to say.
However, just because nothing is ever sweet and easy—This morning we went to the door three minutes before her ride has been scheduled to find the bus waiting. I don’t quite know when it got there and I hadn’t received any word that she would be picked up sooner than her scheduled time. I really don’t mean to look a gift horse in the mouth (Barb, lots of horse idiots today!), but it felt that it was just a wee bit passive aggressive to reschedule the pick up without any word to me. Because the bus has been coming late, we have been going to the door just on time. If we had this morning, the bus would have probably left. I’ll swallow this complaint right here, because I know what response I would get. I’m not even going to add to my thank you that a schedule getting Julia to school on time should have been worked out before school started. Continue reading