I'm so offended. I sat down to eat my breakfast this morning and check on my inbox of emails. The most recent email having the glaring subject welcoming me to AARP Membership Invitation. Excuse ME?! I put that bad boy right into my email trash bin. Just so unbelievably rude to assume that I am old enough to want to join some club of old people. The nerve.
Last week Alisa invited me up to her cabin for lunch. She also invited her new neighbor that lives across the dirt road and through the aspens from her. She is a young mother of four littles, the youngest being only six months old. She was invited too. In fact she pretty much told not to show up unless she brought the baby so that Alisa and I could get our infant-head-and-neck-sniffing fix. We promised to not nibble on her toes. That is reserved for our own grand-babies.
Alisa made a delicious spread and per her usual, served it all on beautiful service-ware, with real cloth napkins. So fun to feel so fancy for a little while. We sat at her beautiful table and gazed out the large windows at the view. The view that has been unchanged since the end of November; well except for the depth of the snow. The trees seem to be getting shorter.
I commented on how beautiful our new friend's hair and skin were. "Pregnancy and young motherhood just makes you glow!" I looked at Alisa. "It's like we are blooming flowers. We blossom and look so colorful and bright and then we go to seed and have all these baby flowers....and then we just shrivel up...and....well, dang. That took a turn real quick. Never mind. Let's go sit by the fire and talk about fun stuff and eat some home made ice cream.
Each of us shared a bit about our families. The ones we came from and the ones we raised or are raising. Our different interests and our shared interests. After a while, Chelsea uncurled her legs and rose from the couch. "Darn, I have to do the carpool for the bus-stop. This has been so fun!" She left us with gifts of jarred homemade granola and a warm hug.
Alisa and I went back to the couch and hunkered down for one of our longer visits. "Gosh....it's so weird. Why is it we still feel the same age as Chelsea? Maybe just a little wiser is all.
Since the bbq and the smoker are practically buried in snow, I have resigned myself to grilling indoors with my grill-pan and making things like hamburgers to at least give me some of the summer feels. I made sour-dough ciabatta rolls for the buns. I'm not exaggerating when I say these rolls were life-changing. At least my-life-changing. Never being the biggest burger fan, I swear I could eat a burger daily if it were on one of these rolls.
Also delicious with a chicken Caesar salad filling
National Pie Day was last month. It just passed me right on by. Though the weather seems to still call for it, I am really over pumpkin or pecan or any other sort of "comforty, wintery, cozy'y" sort of dessert. And a chicken pot pie, though delicious, just conjures up more of that winter vibe I am for sure not craving right now. So I bought some frozen sweet cherries and made an all-American-middle-of-the-summer-cherry-pie.
I considered asking Dave to head into "Hooterville" (what we call our town of Heber" not because it has a plethora of owls or scantily clad waitresses, but because, if you're old enough to remember a T.V. show called Green Acres, you will understand that reference. And you'd also understand that you think twice before just "running to the store". So I didn't, and actually it was fine without. I only pouted inside for a few minutes and then got over it.
Hey! Wait a minute. I just realized that if I'm old enough to remember looking forward to and watching "Green Acres", that means I might be old enough to get an email from AARP. What does AARP even stand for anyway. Who cares.
These days I'm often wearing braids. I figure they either make me look rather like Pippi Long-Stocking, or else a little granny that doesn't know what to do with her hair.
Maybe a bit of both.
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