Quality Leftovers

That's what I had for supper tonight.  Last night my friend JR come over for supper and I assembled a Cobb-ish Salad with homegrown lettuces, the end of a bag of mixed lettuces and another of chopped superfood salad, hard-boiled eggs, a grilled teriyaki chicken breast,  slightly crisped Canadian Bacon cut into matchsticks, halved cherry tomatoes, and feta cheese.  I picked off the croutons and scraped the leftover salad with all the trimmings into a bowl for tonight's supper whereupon I replaced the croutons (and the few chow mein noodles OJ didn't eat for a snack) after drizzling on honey-mustard salad dressing.  Yum.  It wasn't until after we'd served ourselves that I realized I should have taken a photo of the salad but by then it was too late so you get a photo of the dregs resurrected for one more meal.





I had a small, energetic assistant today.  We went to Titletown Park to play in the morning.  He practiced being a Packer, climbed everything until he got too high up, and just raced around from pillar to post playing on every piece of equipment.




When we got home, we (I) made Rice Krispie treats that we spread in a bigger pan so that they weren't so thick and used dinosaur, dolphin, apple, and heart cookie cutters to make our treats.  He was super pumped when he realized that there was a container full of them for him to take home.  I took all of the nibble pieces (the edges from the cutting) and pressed them into this Rice Krispie ball, kind of like a popcorn ball.  I'll be eating that myself.  Right now.

There's a pair of young Orioles that have added our jelly feeder to their daily rounds.  OJ told me that there were Goldfinches out there but they were Orioles.  I was impressed that he called out a bird name.  I asked him what color Goldfinches are and he said, "yellow" so I guess he knows his stuff. Sorta.  (can you tell I used my old camera?  shoddy focusing.)



Last night I filled the washer with cold water and Eucalan (wool wash), turned off the cycle, and let all of the items I've entered in the Fair soak.  This morning I ran the spin cycle to press out as much water as possible, then pinned the damp items out to dry.  No matter how much you wash your woolies they still smell a little like wet dog.  They smell nice when they're dry.  Monday is the day to take in entries and a couple of the items need to be de-pilled and spruced up a bit since they got worn alot last winter.



I took this picture of my purple coneflowers (echinacea) yesterday morning and I think it looks like a watercolor.


 
06 August--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon. 

            After the usual ads for the concessions and innumerable previews of “coming attractions,” the movie finally started.  It was Life is Beautiful and, now that I was sitting there, I remembered the year it won Best Foreign Film at the Oscars.  The director and star, Roberto Benigni, was so excited he climbed over people’s heads to get to the stage.  “I always wanted to see this movie,” I whispered to Abel, “but that was the year Bert died and I went through life on autopilot for a while.”  Abel was right and after the first few minutes I didn’t even realize that I was reading the subtitles while watching and listening.  By the end of the film I felt like I could sort of understand Italian.

            As the credits rolled, the lights came up and I was happy to see that I wasn’t the only one wiping their eyes.  There was even a bit of a glimmer of tears on Abel’s cheeks.  He stepped back to allow me to go up the aisle first and casually put his hand on the small of my back.  It was like he’d attached an electrode; the jolt weakened my knees and I stumbled a little.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.  I think I hit an extra sticky spot on the floor.”

“How’d you like the movie?  Did the subtitles bother you?”

            We had reached the lobby so I slid my hand under his elbow as we walked side by side.  “I loved the movie.  And the subtitles didn’t distract me at all.  Thanks, Abel.”

            “For what?”  He smiled down at me.

            I snuggled a little closer.  “For a new experience, for pushing me to try new things.”

            “Next time we’re definitely going to sit in regular movie seats.”

            “Why?  I kind of liked sitting at the table.  I made it through an entire movie without dropping popcorn into my lap.”

            He untangled his arm from mine then I felt the weight of it settle around my waist.  “Because next time we’re in a darkened movie theater, I fully intend to do a little smooching.”

            I surprised myself by responding, “Sounds good to me.”

            The drive home flew by.  We debated the message of the movie, marveling at the resilience of humans in a terrible situation.  The moonlight made silvery patterns on the roadside as Abel steered his truck into the lane leading to my house.

Neither of us spoke when he parked under the big chestnut tree next to the driveway.  The ticks and groans of the cooling engine were the only sounds except for the sigh of the wind in the tree above us.  I felt Abel shift; his arm snaked around my shoulders and he pulled me to his side.  I was surprised at how right I felt nestled against his chest.  I could feel him relax.  I guess he expected resistance.  It was nice to sit snuggled against a man’s side again, hearing his heartbeat.  The mixture of scents coming from him—popcorn and aftershave with an under-current of wine—was intoxicating.

He turned toward me and lifted my chin.  I saw the moonlight glitter in his eyes as he leaned to kiss me.  The electric charge of the contact made me catch my breath, drawing in Abel’s exhalation.  It was a very intimate feeling, his warm breath surging into my lungs, mixing with mine.  It had been a very long time since I’d necked in a front seat but I guess it’s like riding a bicycle, you don’t forget.  We kissed, exploring each other’s face with our mouths and fingers.  I turned toward him and got a surprise.  “Ouch.  Dammit.”

“What happened?” Abel sounded confused.  “Did I hurt you?”

            “No, you didn’t hurt me, I banged my shin on the shifter.”

            “Oh,” I could hear the laughter bubbling in his voice, “are you okay?”

            “Not funny.”  I rubbed the spot, hoping to keep a bruise from forming there, but I could feel my own laugh building.  “Do you have insurance?  I think I might be permanently disabled.”

              “I’d be happy to be your nurse.  Do you think you need a nurse?” He wrapped his arms around me once again.   “How about a therapist?  We could do some physical therapy.”  He planted a trail of kisses from my lips, down my cheek, to my ear.

            “No nibbling,” I said, turning my lips to his.  “I hate ear nibbling.”

            I could feel his lips smile against mine.  “I’ll try to be more careful.  Is there anything else you don’t like?”

            It was my turn to smile.  “I can’t think of anything offhand.  But then the last man I necked with in a truck wasn’t very imaginative.”

            I felt him take a deep breath and his arms tightened.  “I am, Gail.  I’m very imaginative.”

            After a while, I turned to catch my breath, looked out the windshield and nearly burst out laughing.

"What?"

I leaned close and whispered, "Look at my house."

"Who is that?"

"It's Clara."  I could see the indecision in her stance.  "She's trying to decide whether she should walk down here or turn around and go on home."

He straightened up and I felt his arm drop from around me.  "What's she doing here anyway?"

I lifted his arm and tucked myself back under it.  "She always comes over when I get home from painting class and I guess she figured she'd pop over to hear how our movie date went.  I’ll bet she wishes she’d waited until you drove away."

Our gazes were riveted on the pale figure at the top of the walk.  I was sure she was talking to herself.  "Should we get out?" Abel asked.

"I can't decide which would be more embarrassing for her--for us to stay here and let her imagination run wild or get out and then she knows we've seen her."  I saw Clara take a half step our way, and then she turned and started back home.

"I guess there's your answer, Gail.  You'll have to wait until tomorrow for your grilling.  Now, where were we?"

I managed to drag myself to the Y this evening to walk in the pool with KW but I almost missed going.  I fell asleep on the couch after supper because I woke up at 5 o'clock this morning to pee and couldn't go back to sleep for the hour before my alarm went off.  Grrr.  I hate that and I get too sleepy.  With OJ here there was no way I could nap and, of course, I didn't nap when he did.  Moron.  (me, not you)  Tomorrow my renters and I are having supper together and because I'm retired I get to marinate the chicken breasts and go in the morning to get sweet corn because by the time they get off work the corn is sold out.  Our menu is Balsamic-marinated Chicken Breasts with baby tomatoes served on a bed of lettuces from my garden, accompanied by ears of corn.  Haven't thought of dessert but I can heat up some cherry preserves to pour over vanilla ice cream.  Or chocolate.  Anyway, I'm bushed.  Bon soir, mes amis.
--Barbara