I'm a bad blogger.
Maybe I'll change that.
Maybe, since I have so much time to myself, I should communicate in this way more often.
Maybe it would be good for me.
Today I wasn't alone. I spent the day with my best friend since 6th grade: Lane.
(Miracle of miracles) Tom and I slept in this morning. But then he got a phone call asking him to come in to work early. He often gets these calls and is so nice about them. He will be at work until 5? 6 am "tonight" I believe. Something ridiculous like that.
Shortly after Tom's call from work I got a call from Lane. Lane is in a new relationship and a new job so I see Lane very little. But Lane was calling because she wanted to spend the day with me! My plans had been to do laundry and paint our mirror and watch Ponyo. My plans were quickly ditched.
So, at 11-something I was rushing around getting ready in time to hitch a ride with Tom. Walking shoes, backpack, wallet, short-sleeved shirt, and a jacket, in case. Coffee and shortbread breakfast on the way to Lane's and a sweet (but all too familiar) Saturday goodbye.
Lane and I surveyed her backyard (a favorite pastime) while she fed her ruined breakfast to the chickens. We ate some tiny strawberries and exchanged ideas about where to plant. Then we walked downtown. Lane wore a sweatshirt all day. I complained about the heat and wore sunscreen.
We had lunch at the Park Street Cafe and talked about art and art history and how badly this little monkey girl was going to hurt herself if she fell (she never fell).
There was some great art in the cafe today. Lane said it reminded her of Tron. I wanted to buy the one with the cowgirl, the lasso, the sun and the moon and what looked to us like a UFO.
"Now I have to have it!" I said. I claimed I had a cowgirl in me. The painting was $2500.
"I could have that painting or I could have a baby."
After lunch we roamed the Saturday market. We stopped at my favorite booth: a pretty middle-aged woman selling felted animals, "Felties." Each one has a tag with it's name and story. I have yet to receive one as a gift. Ironically the one I have most wanted to receive was a pig with wings.
We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping. We shopped at second-hand stores all down Willamette street. I bought a basket with sweet bows on either side for $1.50 at the Assistance League. I also bought a book that had Lane and I doubled over laughing.
It's called What is a Mother? And is just a bunch of responses from children. Some were sweet but the best were entries that seemed more like children venting. Our favorite: "DO YOU knoW wHat's a MotHer? I Know BecAUse My Mother ALWAYS teLLs whaT a MotHer is AnD WhAt a MotHer Does AnD MotHer this AnD THat. - RaLPH," probably followed closely by, "A mommy is a Wife. A mommy looks after children and she yells - Jimmy", oh no wait! Number 2 is, "A Mother doesnt do anything exsept she wants to. Nobody maks her take baths and naps or takes away her frog. - Gary."
It will be hard to part with this find, but it's destined for my little sister. Mother of two, due with a third July 24th. I'm very happy about all that. Maybe happy enough to give her the baby elf-hat I knit... maybe.
Oh man, this book is too good. I'm totally distracted from my post. And Tom just texted (at midnight) "[Yadda yadda yadda] I don't know when I'll be home. Things are going really badly. Hours and hours yet." Poor, sweet angel.
Oh. Apparently I'm HIS little pup.
Where was I?
Shopping.
Yes.
I bought the most fantastic vintage mixing bowl for $9. One I'd been admiring for a little while now. Lane's going to get my old Crate and Barrel number that's been getting quite a bit of use lately, actually. I'm baking like mad. Shortbread, peanut butter cookies, pancakes, brownies, muffins, crepes. Just months ago I would have claimed I don't bake, and I guess I didn't then. Time to learn bread and pizza dough and time for a "new" bowl. This one looks like it's straight from a little house on a prairie, and it was on sale today.
I also admired a $50 French ceramic bell: Hand-painted and shaped like a little woman. Maybe it's better I don't have money, so I don't have to decide whether to spend it on bells.
Lane and walked home around dinnertime. I had my bowl clutched at my stomach like a pregnant belly. Our backpacks were full of things we didn't really need but that didn't cost much.
We stopped at Capella for some chicken and juice and gluten-free brownie mix and nectarines. I carried the groceries in my bowl around the store. I love that store and miss it so much now that I live in Springfield. I miss it's small size, good service and great food. But It's right near my best friends house and we pass it every Sunday after church. Hallelujah! Pass me a nectarine!
Our stir-fry was amazingly good. A strange mix of vegetables and a little chicken with only Bragg's Liquid Aminos as seasoning shocked me with its deliciousness. Limeade and apple/ginger juice were really dessert enough but Lane and I are just girls who can't say no so multiple brownies were consumed while watching Jurassic Park III; another thing we should have said no to.
If you're in the mood for Jurassic Park and your best friend, for some bizarre reason, has Jurassic Park III, don't settle, never settle, it's not that same thing. Though, it was good for much mocking and for the digestion of much food. We were convinced we knew what a real dinosaur's motives would be. These dinosaurs were not believable.
Lane offered to drive me home so I wouldn't have to take 2 buses. She's sweet. She sent me on my way with a dozen plus fresh eggs and handfuls of fresh mint. Tom will be thrilled by both.
It was nearly 10 when I got home. A good long day with my best friend. And Monday we're babysitting together, a couple of real cuties who shall remain nameless.
I miss my Tom but life is pretty good anyway.
Last night that boy, exhausted as he must have been, read me Part-time Dog before bed. He's the best and happiest reader in the world.
Now I'm home alone and getting sleepy. I'm thinking about a shower, have given up on the idea of getting anything done and am contemplating whether Snow Falling On Cedars would be too sad and Ponyo would be too long.
It's hard to know when I should go to bed when I know I can't wait for Tom.
Maybe I'll read my Bible, but I'll most certainly fall asleep.
Oh, the dilemmas of a simple, easy life.
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