Charge

Inspirational song: Hard As Love (Marillion)

When I went out to the garage to plug in the attic fan (why isn't this workaround fixed yet?), I noticed that my car was still actively charging. At first I was upset, scandalized, working up a gripe. Then I remembered we got home late last night, my battery was completely drained, and it hadn't even been a full day since we plugged in. I have to say, for all the things I love unconditionally about my car, the fact that I am still stuck with a "trickle charger" at home is on my last nerve. This would be so much more functional with a level two charger in my own garage.

I did intend to go out today, even if I would have hesitated once I realized the car was only half-charged. I'm glad I didn't. The weather is up and down a lot lately, and after several lovely mild days, this upper 90s crap was just an insult. I've been outside more than my share this week. Instead I cleaned in short bursts and let myself coast in between them. 

During my breaks I worked on my next wood restoration project. We have had a giant wooden bowl since we were first married (I think), and the finish on it has been disintegrating for years. It had been hiding in the garage since we moved here, and was just unearthed this summer. I had to break out the power sander to get the finish off, and that was not easy on the inside of the bowl. I'm debating giving up with it a little rough, with some stains still present. I got lucky using Danish oil on the plant table. Can I get lucky twice? I think I'm about to risk it. Pics tomorrow if I do it.

ATK Resprise

Inspirational song: Home Grown Tomatoes (John Denver)

It has been a while since I had a recipe blog post. I tried a new thing tonight, and it came out worthy of a mention. The kids had what they called an "end of summer shindig," and it was a semi-potluck (not everyone brought something, but not everyone was required to). A few days ago, I had been doing my usual "I'll watch anything on YouTube as long as it amuses me" scrolling. I came across a guy doing a deep dive on garlic, to determine whether using jarred, powdered, or fresh made a noticeable difference in the final product. (Spoilers: yes.) One of the dishes he made to see how it did when garlic wasn't the featured flavor, but was just a supporting character, was something he called cilantro chicken. It was this I made to take to the party, and I think it was a hit. I didn't have a lot of leftovers to bring home.

I didn't write down exact measurements. I don't cook that way. As far as I'm concerned, everything is to taste. So take that as you will. I followed his basic instructions, and that is presented here. 

Take boneless chicken thighs, and spread them out on a prep sheet. In a food processor or blender, purée fresh peeled ginger chunks and fresh garlic cloves, with the juice of a fresh lemon and salt. Rub on the chicken and let it marinate. Make the sauce, also in the processor or blender. I used fresh tomatoes from our garden, but the guy called for a couple Romas. To this add a couple green chiles (I used two small serranos), a bunch of fresh cilantro, and a little salt. He called for a squirt of tomato paste, which I didn't have so I skipped it. Sear the chicken in a neutral oil. Because I was making enough for a party, I did it in batches and removed each batch to a tray. When it was all done, I chopped it up into small pieces, but this can be done at the end if you're only serving a few people. Put the chicken back in the pan and pour the sauce over it to reduce. It simmered for a very long time, and then suddenly the water was nearly gone, so check it more often than I did. At the very end, stir in plain, whole fat yogurt. Serve over rice.

I took a picture of it simmering, when my daughter texted to ask why I hadn't arrived at the party yet, along with images of the rice and a tray of brownies (King Arthur gluten-free, and I highly recommend). I don't want a pan of chicken in sauce to be my thumbnail, so I'll start with a picture I used in a Threads comment, when someone asked for followers to show their current POV, as a timeline cleanse.

Distro List

Inspirational song: Time After Time (Cyndi Lauper)

Three palettes ordered, roughly two and a half sold and distributed. Today was the big Palisade peach fundraiser day. The Rotary club has been collecting sign-ups for more than a month in anticipation of this day. The peaches were delivered around two this afternoon, straight from the orchards in Palisade, Colorado. They come 18 pounds to a case, and we split up cases in half for folks who can't make it through the 34-35 peaches in a case before they go bad. We are pretty sure that our $45 a case ($2.50 a pound) might just be the best price in town, especially for a fundraiser.

In years past, I have purchased full cases, sometimes two at once. I'm fairly certain I still have some in the freezer that date back to the before times. I didn't make as many fruit pies in winter as I told myself I would. This year I was much more circumspect. I bought a half case, and no more. Yes, the only picture I took today was me at the end of the evening, making a goofy face for the family chat to tell them "whoops, more peaches."

I was assigned the job of taking the money and checking people off the sign-up list. Once we were having our after-action discussion at the end of the process, we came to the conclusion that might be technically two jobs. It definitely got a little frantic when multiple people were thrusting cash at me at once, and saying a name and walking off. Yes, I got cranky out loud at people I love dearly. After I said (two or three times) that accuracy was more important than speed, people took the extra four or five seconds to let me mark the list and provide change before the next handful of money appeared in front of me. 

And now I have delicious peaches and intentions of pies, and of feeding fruit to two darling children. Will it happen? Dunno. Hopefully.

Buffering

Inspirational song: Rock Me, Amadeus (Falco)

Hm. There aren't a lot of things I want to share tonight. There's no imminent crisis, so don't panic. I just have things to think about, things to process, and a few projects that are stuck in a bottleneck. And, honestly, I needed a rest day after the last week. I was too sore and tired, and tomorrow is reserved for heavy lifting (loading crates of Palisade peaches for our fundraiser). It was okay to sleep a lot during the day.

I have begun fixing up a piece of furniture I swiped from next door when I cleaned up pre-rental. There was an end table left out on the covered patio. The two round surfaces are solid wood, and I immediately thought "plant stand!" when I saw it. I sanded it as best I could, to remove the worst UV and water damage from it. Then I put two coats of Danish oil on it. I was surprised by the color the oil brought out. The sheen was uneven, because of the existing damage, so I searched for ideas online. It said to buff it out, either with very fine sandpaper or steel wool, with conflicting advice on whether to wait for it to cure or do it while wet. It had only sat for two hours when I hit it with steel wool, and it made a huge difference. I'll use one more coat tomorrow, buff it, and then I'll have another place I can set plants. It's almost time to bring the succulents back in off the porch, plus a couple things I want to try to keep alive during the cold months. I will need to get creative on where things go from here.

Kenough

Inspirational song: I'm Just Ken (Ryan Gosling)

That was about as much fun as I could pack into a day. We picked up the kids, dropped off donations at the ARC en route, and spent hours at Costco. Those kids are always game to wander around big stores. What champs. Grandpa fed them snacks from all the sample stations, and I kept offering non-food items up for Val's approval. She is my chief candle-sniffer, although more often than not, she just tells me they smell "clean." Dmitri slept for the first half of the trip, but he woke up angry when grandma was dumb enough to walk into the produce refrigerator with him in the car seat in my cart. My bad. Once he chilled out a little (pun intended), both kids rode facing me, keeping me company, but refusing to look at the camera at the same time.

We've got a home routine going lately. Val sits at the table and works puzzles, and Dmitri makes us play Bluey on the TV, but he rarely sticks around to actually watch it, unless he's powering down for a nap. I don't know how long these obsessions will last. They're cute while we've got them.

Today was some sort of national cinema day. Cheap movies everywhere and snack specials. I convinced Mr S-P to finally cave in and see Barbie with me. This time we were far enough back in the theater that viewing was comfortable, unlike being too close the first time I saw it. I was able to absorb much more of the details of the sets and the clothes, and I cannot get over how good the costumes were. They reminded me so much of the clothes my grandmothers used to make for me in the 1970s, the way they were cut and draped. Absolutely gorgeous. I came home thinking how much I wanted a Barbie pink jumpsuit, and I went on Amazon to see what was on offer. There were some cheap-looking Halloween costume ones, and one that wasn't Barbie pink but rather a deep rose. I'm trying to talk myself out of getting it, but I can't guarantee I won't just grab my phone in a couple of hours and order it anyway.

Also, as with the first viewing, it still kills me that the most incredible music in that entire film about Barbie was the song sung by Ken during his existential crisis. I may just watch the Oscars next year, to see it performed, because, yeah, it will be nominated.

Social-ish

Inspirational song: Saturday In the Park (Chicago)

We appear to have found the way to get everyone to agree to nap. We took the crew to a Rotary social, and let grandpa chase the kids up and down the sidewalk next to where we were gathered. It was challenging for the three of them, for very different reasons, but they seemed to come out of it in good moods. After an hour at the social, we went to Lowe's for a single item, and then I took us up to Sonic for an ice cream after. We pulled into the stall, I ordered, and then I looked at all my passengers. Mr S-P's head was tipped forward, and his eyes were closed. Dmitri's head was tipped back, and he was out cold. Valerie was slumped to one side in her car seat, sawing logs. I didn't take a still photo, but rather showed a video to my daughters. It was a nice quiet car ride home from there.

I'm still running on fumes, despite getting plenty of sleep these days. Those kids are taking it out of me. I imagine there will come a day when I can just be the adult present and not have to pop up three seconds after sitting down constantly all day, just to keep the Professor from getting into something sharp or breakable. If the majority of my plant collection survives his toddlerhood, I will be amazed. I feel like I ought to be stern with him, but then those big blue eyes look at me, and he makes proto-words with the cutest baby voice, and I'm tempted to throw open all my cupboards and drawers and tell him to play with whatever he wants. I'll clean up after he leaves. Then they get picked up and I am so relieved that I finally get to rest.

Rehydrated

Inspirational song: I Love a Rainy Night (Eddie Rabbitt)

Look, I know at some level we aren't supposed to revel in the existence of a tropical storm. But the remnants of that quickie tropical storm that came up here from the Gulf, snaking around the heat dome? Yeah, inject that right into my veins. It was so beautifully cool and damp today. I am refreshed. I was starting to droop like a dried-out peace lily, and now I'm perking up.

I was really pondering the difference I feel between sunny and cloudy days. From my perch inside, when I look out on a bright sunny day, I can't imagine wanting to go outside. It's entirely inhospitable, to the point that I can anticipate pain on my skin just imagining walking in it. But when it is completely overcast, it's like looking out at a covered patio. It feels like an extension of my home, and the idea of wandering around relaxes me. Too bad I'm not willing to go live in a different part of the country (or a different country entirely), to get more days per year that are cloudy. I'm done moving.

For a while this evening, we had the attic fan running, because my room hadn't cooled off sufficiently from the last week of heat. It made the living room too cold, and I grabbed a small throw blanket. Immediately I had two boys stretched out on my lap, taking advantage of the warm spot. We are back in cat cuddle puddle season.

Cute Kids

Inspirational song: You're Welcome (Moana)

Yeah, really, this time I'm just gonna make it quick. I'm so desperate to just cut the light and lie under the fan while cooler air and rain moves in. I want my eyes closed for that.

Saoirse and Murray got a team visit to the vet, for regular checkups and shots. They were well-behaved, but Saoirse got so nervous back in the treatment area away from me that they didn't get everything done. Poor girl does not like being separated from mommy. All good. Remind me to find pliers to put her updated tag on her collar.

Kids were here all evening. Played, bathed, and got in jammies to watch Bluey. The jammies in the diaper bag weren't big enough, so I sent Val home in a CU t-shirt. She looked cute in it.

Okay, done, in record time. Lights out now.

Morning Fun

Inspirational song: Blue Jay Way (The Beatles)

Writing tonight is going to be difficult. I got up at 5:30 this morning for an impromptu trip to Rocky Mountain National Park, and a timed entry to the trails at Bear Lake. Mr S-P decided yesterday afternoon to try to claim a spot, and I wasn't certain until late that I was going to tag along. I'm very glad I invited myself. It was beautiful up there, and worth the excursion.

The path around Bear Lake is very easy. There are only a few uphill sections, for a roughly one mile ring around the lake. It's well-groomed gravel, and a wide path. We think the kids could easily handle this walk, although keeping them on the path and not in the lake might be a trick. 

I did so well on the easy trail that I decided to push it and go the next leg to Nymph Lake. It was all uphill, all the way. I, and a large percentage of the other hikers, had to stop for breathing and water breaks several times over that half-mile. I elected not to go further, to the other lakes, with Mr S-P. He got some beautiful photos from up there, but I was content to sit on a rock, in shade, by the side of the lake I had achieved. I had carried up a notebook, and I sketched out the design I want as my company logo. I've been mulling this over for ages, but I needed to be in a calm space, with no cell coverage, to focus and finish it. When it's digitized, I will reveal it.

And now it has hit me that I have been up far too long and did way too much physical activity.

Fall Out

Inspirational song: In the Air Tonight (Phil Collins)

There are more than enough humbugs out there (and around Smith Park) who like to scoff at early expressions of autumnal joy. They get disdainful when people begin whispering the fall incantion ("pumpkin spice") in August. Let the Grumpy Guses wallow in misery when we start decorating with gold and orange and brown. I refuse to lessen my joy in the colors and scents of fall, even if it is still 30 days away on the calendar. And not for nothing, when I sat down in my favorite chair this afternoon, and looked out at the street, I noticed something had changed. There was a stiff breeze coming from the south, and it was full of small leaves and seed pods. The naysayers are wrong. Fall is upon us.

I had a last minute babysitting call this evening. I was alone when the kids were dropped off, and they were hot and tired from playing outside for hours. They were a little manic and needy. I made sure they had plenty to drink on hand, and pulled out the toys they like best. Val sat at the dining room table and worked on her space puzzle, and Dmitri ran frantic circles around the house. I bounced him between playing with blocks and watching Bluey until he crawled into my lap and let me rock him to sleep while he worked on a bottle of guava juice. Once he was asleep, I put the feet up on my recliner and just watched him for a few minutes. Then it occurred to me that Val must be really focused on her puzzle, because her constant chatter had ceased. I stood up to put the boy to bed, and that's when I saw she was face down on her puzzle, out cold. I didn't want to risk her falling off the edge of her chair if I delayed carrying her to bed, so I didn't stop for a picture. These kids, man. Played hard, napped hard.

I saw that Tiny Kittens has a new mama entering prelabor on the live stream. This cat looks remarkably like Alfred, other than the obvious detail of her not being a neutered Tom. I have to watch this one to see whether any babies look like her, and thus look like Alfred as a kitten. He sure was a cute baby.

Ultra-Violet

Inspirational song: Have a Cigar (Pink Floyd)

Well, it was better today than yesterday. At least that much is true. Was still important to be calm and quiet, so as not to irritate my nerves more than necessary. I didn't always succeed. I did have to put my head down for an hour this afternoon, but I felt enough better afterwards that I had no regrets for taking my rest.

I had promised myself that I wouldn't go anywhere or try anything ambitious all day. I cleaned up after yesterday's babysitting (all the blocks, a quarter of the other toys, and the teepee were still out), did a few dishes, and watered a couple plants. I should have watered more, but I think everything will make it one more day.

I do have one victory to crow about. On the previous occasions I tried to grow African violets, I failed miserably. This time around, not only have I kept both plants alive all year, I have successfully given one the proper care it needed to rebloom. This is a first and I'm totally proud of myself for the accomplishment. Well, the violet did most of the work, but I helped.

Too Far

Inspirational song: Norwegian Wood (The Beatles)

I was still sore when I got up this morning. I started my day slathered in diclofenac gel, and for once I took my morning pills well before noon. It wasn't enough, and I tried mixing a mild muscle relaxer (baclofen) with a mild pain killer (tramadol). Turns out that was unwise. Everything continued to hurt, but on top of it, I was dizzy and stupid. Note to self, don't ever do that again.

After determining yesterday that it was my actual Roku that failed, I went back to Walmart this morning (before the above-mentioned stupidity) and returned the remote. I got a new unit and plugged it in just in time to play Bluey for Dmitri. He was thrilled. His smile made my heart explode. Later, when it was time for him to take his nap, he and grandpa watched several episodes in a row. It was the first time grandpa had watched it, and he nodded and agreed it was pretty awesome and wholesome.

Because I was feeling so crappy all day, and the Mr had a ceremony to attend in Boulder with his childhood scout troop, the kids got picked up early. I've spent the time since continuing to feel yucky and dizzy, and I was planning to just do a one sentence blog where I say I need to just go to bed early. Writing this much surprised me, so maybe I will give myself permission to do a one-liner tomorrow. Depends on whether I sleep all day like I expect. 

I'm not going to proofread, so any mistakes are hereby to be considered "authentic" or perhaps "artisanal." I'm also stealing Mr S-P's pictures from this morning without even asking.

Run Over By a Truck

Inspirational song: Give a Little Bit (Supertramp)

I knew it was going to be bad when I was already used up when I first arrived at the house with the kids. I had to go to Walmart, in an attempt to replace my Roku remote (which I lost and my TV remote stopped controlling it), and I took the whole gang along with me. We spent an hour and a half in the store, and as we used the giant two-kid shopping cart, I strained my back before I even left Walmart. Neither kid was easy all day, and I was up and down constantly, chasing them and pulling things out of the Professor's hands. He didn't like it when I did that, especially when I pulled his hands away from the big fan. Mean grandma!

I wasn't the only tired one. Grandpa was running on fumes too, but at least he was running. I kept needing to stop and try to stretch out my back, but I think that only served to make it more angry. I need to go back to Walmart and return the remote I bought, and just get a whole new Roku device. I think the original device crapped the bed, and that's why neither my Samsung remote nor the replacement Roku worked on it. I tried unplugging it and blowing into the little ports. That was a hail Mary and it didn't work. I wanted to do the return tonight now that the kids have gone home, but I am sitting in this chair until someone rolls me into my bed. My muscles are on strike.

I only took two photos of my own today, and I am not getting up to take more before I post this. One was of a version of Ticket to Ride we found in clearance, to ask the group whether I should get it. (We play TtR a lot.) The other was a selfie to show my daughter exactly how worn out her boy made me. It was about two minutes after that picture that I discovered he had smashed my phone at some point and put spiderweb cracks running out from a shatter right next to the side buttons. The entire top third of the screen is splintering. Imagine how much less attractive this selfie would have been if I had discovered that first.

Ex X

Inspirational song: Careless Whisper (George Michael)

Maybe it's because I'm on day 2 of this migraine, but the few things I accomplished today feel like they've had an outsized effect on the functionality and flow of my surroundings. I'd had a pile-up of things to address around my bedside table, that made the whole room look and feel messier than I could handle. I had a half-full storage bin that needed to be emptied and swapped to hold the antique ewer and basin I took from my bathroom. I had packing materials tossed in the corner with all of that. And I had misery. I sorted the bin, filled an old Walmart bag full of crap from it (mostly sewing projects that were never done in 6-7 years) and made the swap. I can't express the joy I felt from carrying that cubic foot of tightly packed fabric and trash out to the can in the alley. I kept going in my room, hanging a much-loved pottery piece on the wall, and changing where a plant resided. The changes are small, but the relief is enormous.

Another cleanup I did freed up no physical space, marginal digital space, and a universe of emotional space. I uninstalled the former bird app from my phone. I'd already deleted it from my iPad, but I let it stay buried in my phone (not home screen), in case I needed an old DM or something. Now I am free. Am I still an ex-X user if I refused to use it a single time once the name changed? It's amazing how quickly I went from checking it 100 times an hour to deleting it without a moment of regret.

For the most part of the day I took it easy. My tummy was pretty fragile, and the lightheaded feeling from yesterday was back. Between the migraine and the heat, I had no intention of exerting myself. The forecast keeps changing to add extra days of extra heat, so I expect several more days like this, even if the migraine clears up. September is coming, though, so it has to break soon.

One thing that's fun about these brain events (no, seriously) is that it changes how I hear music. I can pick out different instrumentation easier, and follow multiple melodies and countermelodies better. I played with that a little after a nap, by turning on a video of 80s songs done in a medieval bard core style, and letting it play in the background while I did other things. Turns out some of these really translated well with that treatment. Quite fun.

Autopilot

Inspirational song: One Hit (To the Body) (The Rolling Stones)

Someone in my neighborhood has taken to smoking cigarettes outside near my house. When I have my whole house fan running and the windows open, a faint whiff of smoke comes inside. I would ignore it, but I can't, because cigarette smoke is also one of the smells I hallucinate when a migraine is coming on. (The other phantom smell is cat pee. Aren't migraines fun?) I smell cigarettes now, but I don't know whether they are real or not. It is indeed night time, and my windows are open and the fan is on. On the other hand, I feel like a carpentry clamp is pressing down on the top of my head, pushing from there through my right eye socket and sinus, into my molars. In the days before botox, this would have felt more like an ice pick, so I guess duller pain is a step up?

I was in a sour mood all day, before the facial pain got me. I didn't know why, but I could tell I was grumpy. I had a bad opinion about everyone. The last straw was when it was almost cat dinner time, and Harvey started his usual reminder, sitting on the chair behind my head, impatiently tapping me (hard) with his tail. Rather than feed them, I called him a rude name and pushed him off the chair, and then went to lie down with the right half of my face pressed hard into the softest pillow I had. By doing this, I understood what the problem was, and what the best remedy was as well (being very still and sleeping when possible.)

Eventually I had to rejoin the living. I had an errand I wanted to run at Target, and I had been waiting for the heat of the day to pass before I went outside. I drove off, thinking I'd just get one or two things at Target. Instead, I went to Home Depot first (it was next door). I looked at every plant inside, taking none. I wanted cleaning supplies, and finally got a floor squeegee like Aurikateriina uses, plus some industrial strength degreaser for the replacement oven. By the time I got to Target, I was already losing focus and I had no ability to track time. I went in circles, dropping things in the cart with no real plan for some of the stuff. Slowly I came to realize store employees were in the process of tidying for closing, so I got out of there. Mr S-P said I was gone so long, for the purchase of one stated item, that he started wondering if he needed to "call the PD." That was the point it occurred to me I probably should have delayed my errand until my brain had run updates.

On This Day

Inspirational song: Love Me Tender (Elvis Presley)

Even though the Mr had said something last night like "oh, you know what tomorrow is," it didn't occur to me why he decided to go on the hike to Blue Lake again. He had just gone a few weeks ago. Not even after I saw someone post online the last photograph of Elvis Presley, before he died on this date in 1977, and sent a screenshot to the Mr did I put it all together as a whole. It was later in the afternoon that it all fell into place. He marked the day by hiking to his father's favorite fishing spot, the place where he died of a heart attack within a few hours of Elvis doing the same. 

He left before I got out of bed this morning, and I even got up early-ish. I wandered out at about 7:30, not realizing he had already left. I kept expecting him to come in from the yard or something. Because Boulder canyon has absolutely no cell service, I had to just hope that was where he had gone so early. It wasn't until the animals' dinner time that any messages came through from him, as he was on his way back down. All at once we got some pretty pictures and an alarming note about how he'd dropped his keys back at the car and didn't know until he got off the hike.

I mostly worked on getting the house ready for game night. I took out trash and recycling, and added in some expired food from the pantry while I was at it. I figure if it was pre-pandemic, I don't need to keep it around anymore. Slowly I am switching over to fall decorations. It's early yet, so I can fiddle with things until they look good. I'm just testing for now. Also, it turns out that when you run a whole house fan and sit on the opposite side of where your fall scented candles are burning, none of those luscious smells make it to you. Something to keep in mind, in this transition weather.

Sassy

Inspirational song: California Gurls (Katy Perry)

As Stan Marsh so often said, I learned a valuable lesson today. (Or this week. Same diff.) I'd been chasing a dream for so long, not even recognizing that I once held it in my hands and moved away from it. I had wanted a chin length curly hairdo for most of my life, but most of that time I didn't have enough curl to achieve it. Over the last few years, I had the curl, but I didn't know how to manage it, and was afraid to cut off the length for fear that the curls wouldn't come back.

I got the nerve to cut my hair short this summer. I had to go in two phases to get all the way there. As I did that, I learned that the curl still existed, it just needed me to treat it right. Last week I dyed my roots, and went digging in the old products buried in my cabinet to style it. Came up with mousse I probably moved at least twice cross-country. Darned if that wasn't all I needed all along. No more heavy curl defining cremes and gels. Just a single application of mousse on very wet hair and diffuse. I'll work on making neat curls rather than a chaotic mess, now that I'm sure I have the right stuff. The chaos is still fun, though. One of my Rotary friends called it "sassy," and I realized that was exactly what I'd been wanting all along. Gives me Queenie vibes (from the Fantastic Beasts franchise).

I didn't know what I'd be writing about tonight, so I had only taken one other photo before bedtime. I learned today that polka-dot plant (hypoestes) produce flowers if left to their own devices. I had no idea. I'm going to plant these outside a lot next year.

Inexpensive Tastes

Inspirational song: Threw It On the Ground (The Lonely Island)

There was an answer to meme I stumbled on last week sometime. The original statement was something like marriage is asking each other over and over what's for dinner and just getting takeout every time. The answer I saw was that single life is trying to think of what to cook and then eating popcorn for dinner instead. Well, I guess I eat like a single person. I'm making a concerted effort to use up the aging staples from my pantry and overstuffed freezer. I wandered around this evening, looking for something to make for dinner on my own (The Mr had meetings all afternoon and evening), found rotten potatoes to throw out, and then had popcorn for dinner. I'm an adult.

Actually, that was another one I ran across in the last few days, a woman discussing the infantalization of millennials and the transition to using "adult" as a verb taking away its seriousness. It seems to be the universal struggle, trying to decide when you get to think of yourself as an adult, when the impostor syndrome goes away. Most of the time I believe I've long since passed those moments of doubt, but nights like this make me still wonder if I'm doing it right.

So, for absolutely no reason at all, I discovered that the way to make a slighty bitter, cheap, Kirkland côtes de Provence wine palatable was to add ginger ale to it. Took some fiddling to get the right ratio. Turns out, my beverage tastes can sometimes be even less sophisticated than my food choices. 

Dazzling

Inspirational song: Just a Gigolo (David Lee Roth)

Episode 3770 (give or take): the one in which Dmitri previews our future, and we are doomed.

We repeated the protocol for last Sunday. We went to babysit at the kids' house instead of our own, so grandpa could finish the setup of the play structure he acquired from Resource. He worked on it for an hour before deciding he had the wrong bolts, and we took a quick trip to Lowe's. (No plants were purchased in the making of this episode.) Dmitri fell asleep almost the second we got in the car, so we took him inside in his carrier, little bare feet poking up from under the canopy of the folding shade. As we stood at the registers, his little eyes opened, and he was saddened to realize he had to stay strapped in until we got home.

He cheered up while he and I played inside, so he wasn't in danger while power tools were in use and the swimming pool was unguarded. He was very snuggly, leaning against me to watch Bluey while he sucked down a bucketful of juice. He found a pair of sunglasses that Auntie had sent for his birthday, and wanted them placed on his face. He posed for several pictures with them, and hoo-boy, was that kid charming.

After a long day of playground-building, grandpa finished up enough for them to have an inaugural swing, and then we packed up and went out to dinner. We chose a regional Mexican chain, full of bright colors and ornamentation that appealed to the boy. He was too wiggly to sit and wait for food, even with chips to nibble on, so the two gentlemen went wandering around the restaurant while Val and I sat and colored. Eventually they returned, several minutes after the food was delivered. He made a good showing of eating rice and quesadilla, even if chunks of it ended up in his booster seat. At one point, the Mr was trying to hold him back from climbing on the table, and that kid jumped, hands outstretched, trying to leap over the restraining arm. Mr S-P and I locked eyes, stunned, and after a few seconds I said, "We in danger, girl."

Seconds after the lunge, Dmitri tripped backwards over his booster seat and landed in the corner of the booth, bonking the back of his head on the wall. He cried, and while grandpa was holding and soothing him, the hostess came over. She asked if she could hold him, and he went willingly to be cuddled by the pretty young woman. She bounced and talked to him, and soon they were joined by two more women on the staff. That kid. I swear we are not ready for the force of nature that is our grandson.