Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to write a tirade, or even if I don’t have enough for a longer post, I do have bits and pieces I feel you would all benefit from reading. This is that kind of post –
It is time for me to get back to work, though it has been a wonderful summer. While I could use two more weeks of lounging about and eating bon-bons, I crave the schedule, and, even more, the socialness of work. Today I got back into the mood by prepping my lunches for the week; as one of my (many) bosses said “Ann eats everything out of jars.” I do, at school anyway – I put together jars of yogurt and berries, jars of salads, jars of Pho, so I can just grab them and go in the morning. Sunday mornings are kind of a ritual for me, though obviously not a religious one, as I grocery shop and then cut up veggies, cook up whatever is the protein of the week, generally get ready. Then I have the rest of the day to relax.
When we were little, I used to dread Sundays; they were long and hot, I had to sit still and be good in church, and every Sunday night we had to fold clothes. My poor mom – with 4 kids, we had mounds of clothes to fold, and we always did it while watching Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom and The Wonderful World of Disney. Now that I am a full-fledged grown-up, I childishly refuse to fold clothes on Sunday nights.
Reading the two paragraphs above, I just realized that I’ve traded one ritual, folding clothes, for another, prepping meals. Insert wide-eyed emoticon here.
Continuing the food theme (so many of my posts do seem to center on food, don’t they?), this year’s cherries have been absolutely the best I have ever eaten. Big, deep red, firm, and as sweet as sugar. I keep bringing pounds home, planning on pickling them, and then eating every one before I can get the vinegar out. Pickled cherries are a Dixon thang – all the sibs love them, and all the in-laws think they are an abomination against man and beast. If you are a pickling freak, here is the very easy recipe:
J-9’s Pickled Cherries
- 1 quart cherries
- 3 T Salt
- 2 T sugar
- White vinegar
Wash cherries, pack into canning jars. Add salt and sugar to each jar, pour vinegar over. Store for at least 6 weeks, turning jars over periodically. I like them best refrigerated after the six weeks of sitting.
We did get to go on vacation this year – Bruce and I took an absolutely amazing cruise to Alaska. It was the first time in several years that we took a real vacation, and we had some trepidation about being in such close quarters for 10 days. In fact, some people who may or may not be related to me were taking bets on who would return alive. Hah! We both did – just to spite them. Actually, we got along really well, and made some great friends, and not just with the bartenders. A couple-and-mother-in-law group took us under their wing and taught us a new card game, Three and Thirteen, which, luckily, can be played while holding onto a frosty Moscow Mule. Absolutely great people, who don’t know it but probably saved one of us from being pushed out onto an ice floe and sent out to sea. I won’t make you look at vacation pictures, but here is one such ice floe. The colors are truly that deep. (I’m having problems getting the picture to show; bear with me.)(Nope, not happening. More research is needed.)(Screw it.)
Best of all, I was cool for an entire week, even cold on occasion. It was glorious.
But I missed my dogs. Oh, and my kids. Of course I missed my kids.
The hardest part of the cruise, and I say it with shame in my heart, was the days we were without internet connection. I truly got anxious when I was out of touch with every one, and when I couldn’t google something I needed to know instantly. My attachment to my phone is ridiculous, and I recognize that, but I can’t let it out of my hand. I’m sure Freud would have something to say about that.
Even as wonderful, necessary, and luxurious as the vacation was, getting home was best – my own shower, my own bed, my own dogs, and, as a neighbor once said, “Two doors between me and everyone.”
Back to work tomorrow!