Old friends

   The hours are too short on some days. I love visitors, but am a little bummed that my visit with Janet and kids was so short. Alas, it is Christmas and time becomes more precious, so it would seem. The same thing happened with a few weeks back with an  old high school friend. The words burble and flow, but the well is never empty. So many thoughts to share and mental hugs to impart. Three o'clock snuck up on us and issued us off to bed. Blissful little people allowed us adults to be lazy critters come morning hours. Sunshine smiles were optional. Coffee cradles crept into quiet corners of foggy brains. Too quickly the day passed. Lunch at 3pm wrapped up a whirlwind tour. The road beckoned and the house falls silent of friends again. Anticipation can begin for the week to come. Another visitor at week's end is something else to look forward to. What shall this visitor bring?

the Christmas countdown

I tried to get to my computer earlier to write a few words, but visitors have arrived in my world. Alas, no fabulous prose to relate.

Throbbing feet
Pulse to a shopping beat.
Christmas edges closer
and closer

Must wrap and peer
at presents over a Christmas beer
Much way to go
Before holiday cheer doth flow.

 Soon
Santa will be soaring o'er the moon.
 Soon.

75

   Taking time to piece together a blog post is getting more difficult with a list of Christmas tasks to do. I have vacuumed the house in anticipation of my dear friend Janet and children arriving tomorrow. The bathrooms beckon, but so does my computer screen.

   Last night I was on the computer late, as usual. I retired thinking that sleep would find me soon, but the brain had other plans for me. While I would have appreciated a little more sleep, interesting bits traipsed through my pre-dream fog. A comment on my book review got my creative juices thinking up stories. I probably do not have time to write the start of the words that swished above my head last night, but I was pleased with the start of a story. I will not give details here, as I need to see if words actually find proper places. Tempting as it was to write them down last night, I yearned for sleep more. I did think that this might be a good place to try out stories as they filter through me (as I hope they may!). So perhaps the words will return to me and find a place on paper or screen. In the meantime, my writing falls more to Christmas cards and actions will soon lead to yoga and drumming. Be well my friends

cassoulet vs chocolate?

   What wonderful things cross my brain this evening? Tonight was my weekly dinner feast with friends Nancy and David. We had extra bodies tonight, as Sue and Don were exposed to the joy of dining with children (of which they have none and desire none). A yummy cassoulet was our fare, compliments of Sue. She was almost dismayed that the children (three girls 4 1/2, 4 1/2 and 3 years) were not interested in her delicacies. Ha! The other three parents at the table smirked. We have all had more meals than can be counted where food has been snubbed for more reasons than can be imagined. No other reason is needed to not eat than having company to escape with. Only the lure of chocolate or chicken nuggets tempts fickle appetites. We have found ways around this by letting the girls eat after us when we dine at my house. We can enjoy our meal and sip at wine in a civilized manner with adult conversation. The girls either beat a hasty retreat to the basement, where food is either eaten or not, but not witnessed by us, so not as painful. They do sometimes join our table, but I think they enjoy having their own time and space together. It seems to make us all happier. Well worth it. And one night where I am not badgering my children to eat seemingly forever, until I cannot take it any more. I hate hitting the one more bite or two more bites phase, but it seems to be the only thing that will work some nights. Nancy's strategies are to feed the girls sure-fire kiddables like hot dogs or macaroni and cheese, while we get to dine on gastronomical dishes that our children would never eat, like the spicy curry we enjoyed last week. Ahh.

   I think that is what I like best about my Tuesday dinners. I get to be an adult. I get to eat and talk with other adults of like mind. We get to eat food that we like, whether the kids eat or not. We can reminisce about days of yore when we could savour a meal without having to clean up spilled milk or grate our teeth over uneaten food. I can be me and let go of my Mommy reins. Someone else is there to help. Someone else is just plain old there. Whether they serve meals, clean plates or just talk to me. I am not alone. Yes, I am not alone. I like Tuesdays.

Chestnuts roasting over open (oven)

I sit at my kitchen table and watch as my girlies stud clementines.

I decorated a clementine on the weekend with cloves and T was enchanted. She managed to find another clementine hiding in the fridge and demanded that we stuff it full of cloves too. With no more to be found she insisted that we should buy more oranges, so today I made a point of buying some for her. I happen to like them for breakfast, but their thrill at another craft project warms my soul.

They are my inspiration to get in touch with the simple life of days gone by. I even picked up some chestnuts and have some roasting in the oven as I write. This is a task I have never undertaken, but am inspired by Christmas carols on the radio and some crafty blogs I peruse. I may even try my hand at chocolate coated orange rinds for a sweet dessert treat for dinner tomorrow night at a friend's house. Thanks Gardenmama! Wishing you a warm and festive time of year.