Are you a father? No? Well, you for sure had one so I hope you've called your dad and wished him well if he's still among the living. Durwood's gotten one phone call from DD in Kentucky and one warning "we'll swing by after 5" call from DS & DIL1 who have a work thing this afternoon. My dad's been in Heaven (or on its golf course or in its woodworking shop NOT cutting his fingers on the table saw) for about 17 or 18 years so it doesn't hurt so much on days like today anymore. I still miss having him around to boss me around (sometimes), though.
I got the lawn mowed and the flowerbed weeded yesterday and I thought about watering the garden but Mother Nature took on that job around 9 o'clock last night. From the sound of the rain pounding down I think she tried to do it all at once and there was a little thunder, but I'm still going to check the garden today. After I make a diagram of which tomato is where. (forgot that yesterday, I need a list)
Yesterday morning when I got up and opened my pill keeper I realized why I was having such a "challenging" week. (that means I was a weepy, cranky, bitch on wheels) I forgot to take my pills two days. That means I skipped my multivitamin, vitamin C, calcium, and reflux meds (which isn't such a big deal) but then that also meant that there were two days that I didn't take my anti-depressant (which IS a big deal). Sorry, Dear, that explains a lot, especially the less-than-cordial start to Friday's erranding togetherness. You'd better bet I'll be vigilant this coming week. Vig. I. Lant.
I got my Green Soup with Chicken (I actually call it Green Chicken soup but some people think that sounds yucky, go figure) made for work lunches yesterday with an intermission for running to the Farmer's Market for tomatoes for Durwood. He napped until 11 (because of his oddball sleep the night before, see yesterday's post) so I went by myself and much later than usual. They still had $5 bags of the tomatoes like he likes and they also had 4/$3 crab rangoons for me. I usually have those for breakfast on Saturdays but since it was almost noon I counted them as lunch. One of my favorite stalls is run by two friendly, ex-Army women from up Oconto way who sell herb plants and gourd. Not just any gourds either, they make fanciful birdhouses all painted up and gorgeous. Look at that flamingo! You know if I'd have had fifty bucks anywhere near me I'd have brought it home with me. As I was down to $3 I just goggled at it and munched my way back to the car and home, pining for a giant pink flamingo gourd birdhouse all the way. *sigh* That's a lot of moolah for a birdhouse anyway. (says Durwood the ant's voice in back of my head but I grew up with a grasshopper Mother so I could go either way) (I just remembered that one of the kids called them "grasspoppers", aw)
June 16--Eugene Delacroix, The Natchez. He had paddled as hard as he could but they hadn't reached shore before the rain came. The storm built behind them and she'd tried to hide her fear. "It'll be okay," Charlie told her, "it isn't too far and the wind will push us." Then he'd turned his back to the approaching weather and paddled. He tried to keep his eyes on the far shore, tried to not look at the fear on her face, and not to see how she cradled her belly in a protective embrace. He felt the windblown drops hit his back, just a few fat drops at first but then they came, cold and stinging, driven by the wind. Laura hunched in the bow of the boat trying to stay dry, trying to keep from seeing the lightning lance into the water. He barely heard her cry out when the first pain hit but he saw her convulse and paddled harder.
That surprised me. I stared and stared at the painting of the young native couple with their newborn but the storm clouds in the background saved me. Whew. Enjoy your day. I hope you're cooking out and enjoying family visits or phone calls. Happy Father's Day to all you dads, grandpas, uncles, step-dads, and sorta dads out there. Big hugs.