A Beginning

I hauled up my suitcase and carry-on bag, my rain jacket, a flannel shirt, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and my fleece vest and parked them on the guest bed.  I also folded a basket of laundry and will start tomorrow (or maybe Tuesday) putting things into the cases and checking them off my list. (13 more wake-ups!)

This morning I went to the grocery for a couple ingredients I lacked to make a big bowl of WW Health Salad, which is a fancy version of vinegar coleslaw.  I am a connoisseur of coleslaw, especially the vinegar kind, and this is good stuff. I'll let the flavors blend overnight and then I intend to make myself a black bean burger for supper tomorrow night and have some of this lovely slaw alongside.



In the afternoon I went downstairs and finished the Feather (or Fish) Dress no. 3.  I think I'm going to take it back downstairs and sew up the decolletage an inch or so; it's a little plunging and gaps a bit.  Easily fixed.  It's soft and swingy and comfy.


After supper I mowed the lawn.  Walking around and around is about a mile and I get winded and oh so sweaty.  Good thing there's Gatorade Zero and showers.  It looks nice once it's done but it sure is a pain.  And I'm thirsty for the rest of the day.  Water, please, this time with ice.

11 August--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

I was awake before everyone else the next morning.  While waiting for my tea to steep I heard Elizabeth’s coos floating down the stairs, so I crept up, grabbed a diaper and the baby, and brought her downstairs to have tea with Grandma.  Just like her Uncle Matt, Elizabeth had a sunny disposition and was happiest in the morning.  After changing her, I settled her in the highchair with a handful of Cheerios.  I turned the radio on low so our conversation wouldn’t disturb the sleepers upstairs and we had a fine time watching the birds at the feeders.  Soon enough Aaron and David came stumbling downstairs looking all rumpled and sleepy-eyed.  Aaron went straight to the coffeepot and made a brew that looked like it would strip paint.

            “How can you drink that stuff?” I said.  “It looks like sludge.”

            He cocked an eyebrow at me and smiled.  “Puts hair on my chest.”

            “Puts fuzz on your tongue’s more like it.  I can smell how strong it is from here.”

            “Want a cup?”  He waved his mug in my direction.

            “No thanks.  I’ll stick with my tea.”  I got up to pour David a glass of juice and find out what he wanted for breakfast.

            “Just cereal for me, Grandma.  Dad and I need to get your computer online.”

            I nearly cried at how grownup he sounded.  “Are you sure, honey?  I’d be happy to make you pancakes or French toast.”

            “Naw, that’s okay.  Maybe you can make French toast tomorrow before church?  That’d be good.  And some of those little sausages, too?  They’re my favorite.”

            “I remember,” I said.  “I made a special trip to Lou’s Meat Market and laid in a big supply so we can all eat them till we burst.”  I pulled out the cereals, he kept one eye out for his Dad’s reaction when he choose the Fruit Loops, and poured a bowlful.

Aaron snagged the Cap’n Crunch saying,  “We’d better scarf this down before Mama gets up.”  Father and son chuckled identical mischievous laughs.

            Just then a voice came echoing down the stairs.  “What are you eating I wouldn’t like?”

            Aaron and David traded guilty looks.  “Um, nothing, dear,” Aaron called, “you go back to sleep.  Mom’s taking good care of us.”

            Two spoons moved faster to scrape the bowls as a disbelieving grunt floated down followed by a dainty snore as Sara fell back asleep.

            I had to laugh as they both reached to refill their bowls.  “Not allowed to eat sugary cereal at home, huh?”

            David looked at me with an innocent look I recognized from the days his father was his age.  “Mama worries that too much sugar is bad for us, but I think a bowl or two every once in a while won’t hurt me.  What do you think, Grandma?”

            Feeling like an enabler, I said, “I suppose a little sugar never hurt a growing boy like you.  Your secret’s safe with me.”

            All three of us jumped when a voice came from the doorway.  “Whose side are you on, Gail?”  She turned to her daughter.  “Good morning, sunshine.”  Elizabeth was so happy to see her mom, she slapped the tray of her highchair and Cheerios flew all over.  “Sorry, Gail, I’ll sweep those up later,” Sara said, as she reached into the yellow box for another handful for the baby.

            “Well, uh, Sara,” I found myself stammering like I used to when my mother caught me doing something she’d forbidden, “you see, I think a little bit of something not exactly nutritious isn’t always bad.”  Three pale guilty faces watched her cross the kitchen and take a mug from the cupboard.

            “Relax, everybody.”  She laughed.  “I’m not an ogre, you know.”  She grabbed a cereal bowl.  “I suppose Cap’n Crunch isn’t going to kill us.  Hand it over.”  She poured her own bowl of the crisp sugary stuff, which threatened to overflow when she poured on the milk, “oops, guess I got greedy,” and she dug in with enthusiasm.  “Mmm, I’d forgotten how good this stuff is.  I suppose it doesn’t have much more sugar than the syrup we drown our waffles with.”

            Aaron and David looked stunned at her stuffing herself with forbidden food.  They looked at each other, shrugged, and finished their own breakfasts.  “Come on, assistant,” Aaron said, “we’d better get dressed and finish Grandma’s computer set-up.”

            As soon as they left the room, Sara pushed her half-finished bowl away.  “Ugh, I can’t eat another bite.  I’d forgotten just how sweet this stuff is.”

            “Coffee or tea?” I asked and got up to get it for her.

            “Did Aaron make the coffee?”

            “Um-hum.”

            She made a face.  “Tea, please.”  And held out her mug.  “Aaron’s coffee makes great rust remover but I won’t drink it.”  As she sipped her tea, she asked, “Anything special on the agenda today?”

            “I told Clara we’d stop over later.  Kayla and Faith are home for the weekend and want to see how big the kids have gotten.”

            Sara smiled.  “Faith’s home?  Oh boy, did we have fun together in college.  Aaron was always a bit scandalized at our antics.”

            “Really?  I thought he was a bit of a devil in school.”

            “Oh, he was.  He was operating with a double standard then.”

            I felt a little pang of remorse.  “I’m afraid that was my fault.  Being such a stick-in-the-mud made him think all women were as boring as I was.”

            “You’re not boring, Gail.”

            I patted her hand.  “Thanks, honey.  But I used to be in such a rut, I cooked the same foods on the same day every week.  That’s the way Bert liked it and I guess I wasn’t willing to assert myself.  Those days are over.”

             “They sure are.  I liked the old Gail, but I like the new Gail a whole lot more.  You’re much more fun.”

            “Why, thanks, sweetie.  I’ve always liked you too.”  I got up, rinsed the cereal bowls, and put them in the dishwasher.  “How about letting me get the baby dressed while you take a shower?”

            My tired daughter-in-law gave me a grateful smile as she went upstairs for her things.  “Thanks.  Maybe I’ll even take the time to shave.  My life is so hectic that I look like a yeti half the time.”

Tomorrow I'm having coffee with a friend but hope to spend more time sewing up at least one more dress, maybe a pair of pants too.  I don't really need more clothes but sewing is so satisfying.
--Barbara