Saturday's cookout at Rich and Holly's place confirms my suspicion that we have become troglodytes, hermits, cave dwellers. We come out to work or to replenish our cave stores. We have Netflix. We have the internet and a garden in a wine barrel. Our parties are small affairs, where we invite the usual suspects, and I cannot remember the last time we even did that. It's to the point where I am not only a reluctant hostess, I am a pretty lame guest. I feel shy and out of the loop and tragically unhip. I didn't even remember to bring a dish or extra drinks... I offered to bring something and then nothing. We are out of sorts, out of practice.
Rich and Holly had us, neighbors, and James, Deanne and Parker over for some grilling, some great mixed drinks and laid-back relaxing in their beautiful courtyard. I think those few hours were the clearest and warmest of the entire winter the sequel weekend. The sun did shine and the rain/drizzle/wind held-off. So, with interesting conversations, delicious food, the light of the sun, children playing, bubbles drifting and those mixed drinks! I was feeling pretty good. Mighty, pretty good. Holly, what was in those drinks? I was recalling the divine epidural of '04, when I was so mellow I thought we should leave and find a better place to hang out, and Geoff gently reminded me we were there to have a baby.
Speaking of babies... Oh, Parker! If I showed you his full head of honeyed dark brown hair, you would be overcome with baby love... he is that adorable. Just a day shy of 4 months, and already tuned to everyone and everything around him. He studies the faces he sees and looks ready to make a statement, or recite an epic poem. He is that clever. You may say I am biased, but trust me: This boy is exceptionally yummy.
At the beginning of the party both Izzy and Maria were asleep. I think the happy anticipation of playing together wore them out, and luckily they both woke-up with plenty of time to eat and play and enjoy the gathering.
Grapes. Maria loves grapes. And strawberries, nectarines, watermelon, apples, blackberries, bananas and
For the sake of full disclosure, so that I can keep track of this, that, and the other... I am making a list. And my list goes something like this:
1. Garybob, our landlord, asked to come over with prospective tenants. Before fainting, I had the good sense to say, "No, you cannot come over in 24 hours. Please come next Saturday." Then I fainted. Then I woke up and cursed and cried, and then I fainted again. And I have been cleaning ever since I regained consciousness.
2. We had a quiet troglodyte funeral for Lola, laying her to rest in a bed of bougainvillea in the wine barrel. Everyone shared kind words and dear memories of our little chica.
3. Then we had to be brave ranchers and go back to the feed store for a 3rd chick. Not much of a mourning process, I know, but we want 3 hens and waiting is risky.
4. We brought home a barred rock. Also known as a Plymouth. She'll look like Luna, Chickenblog's banner hen. And it's good we did not wait. The chick dynamic was full of upheaval and conflict the first day. The new chick is feisty and aggressive and cocky... uh-oh... let's hope she is not cocky-doodle-do cocky!
5. Everyone in Chickville has settled down, and if I weren't teaching long division and cleaning Garage Mahal, I would be sitting in the yard, holding chicks and designing a darling hen house.
6. I should be cleaning. I should be cleaning. I should be cleaning. I should be cleaning. I should be cleaning. I should be cleaning.
7. We made an offer on a trailer. It comes with land and something that could be a house. I am trying to be indifferent and detached.
Must be like a cat. Cool and collected. Confident. At home, wherever I hang my apron.