Life Happens . . . Luscious Tomatoes, a Tribute to Those in Blue, Pillowcase dresses, etc.
It’s been quite a week. Out of the ordinary, and yet not. Perhaps the best way to explain it is with pictures.
First, Logan left for college.
Have I mentioned that?
Anyway, there’s always been a battle between him and tomatoes. They’re not the best of friends. So, in order to turn lemons into lemonade, I took advantage of his absence and made a bountiful tomato pizza pie for supper the day after he left. And it was divine, dahling!
Layers of pesto, sliced tomatoes, onion, garlic, and a cheesy mayonnaise mixture in a pie shell equals pure bliss.
It was like a big slice of slurpy pizza.
I’ll post about it soon.
Then, the mere thought of my capitalizing on Logan’s absence led to this.
So before my cheeks were awash with memories, I did anything and everything I could to distract myself including a visit to my vegetable garden because . . .
I believe I have picked the last of pretty much everything out there except for a ripening eggplant or habanero or two because, like a typical day in my life, my garden usually begins very early and retires long before most others. It was a bountiful year, though, and I loved going produce shopping in the yard. The price and taste simply cannot be beaten!
With the generous cucumber yield, I made a batch of yummy Bobby Flay pickles.
Can you please tell me what is up with this cucumber ball?
There was a bit of a ruckus when we happened upon a huge hive in our backyard 10 feet from our deck. My valiant husband sprayed it, knocked it down and saved the day.
The stinging, flying, now homeless critters I’m sure would disagree. Does anyone know exactly what type of hive/nest this is?
On Tuesday night, Spence and I sat inside with the doors locked and everything battened down as three fugitives were on the lam 16 miles north of us in Fox Lake. They had shot and killed a police officer and were considered armed and dangerous. Still are, actually, wherever they may be.
Yet another police officer was killed in the line of duty.
What has become of us in the U.S.? Have we turned into a bunch of armed, murdering marauders?
The officer shot was a husband and father of four, and my heart ached for his family’s loss.
At times, I imagine that being a cop feels like such a dangerous, thankless job.
There are officers out there who abuse their power in hideous, often racially-motivated ways and must be identified and stopped immediately, yes, but many more are brave, upstanding citizens who serve and protect.
A hearty thank you goes out to the good officers of the nation.
You are unbelievably appreciated!
And while Spence and I were hunkered down in the house, I was receiving giddy texts from my husband who was in New Jersey on a “business trip” testing out the latest line of BMW makes and models. Oh the sacrifices he makes for his job.
I cranked open my kitchen window Wednesday morning, only to be greeted by a giant, wriggling, brown spider with eight biceps larger than my own two. I let it be for fear it would win if it came down to a wrestling match. What is it with the bionic insects around here lately? At least they’re outside. For now.
To take my mind off of missing Logan, in between laundry loads and boatloads of dirty dishes, I went for therapeutic walks and lunches with friends as a distraction tactic and then took myself to the bookstore, which is one of the few forms of shopping I revel in, a fact to which my overflowing bookshelves will attest.
And each time, when I returned home, my heart soared momentarily seeing Logan’s car in the garage, which certainly meant he was home, right?
Not so much.
I’m still not used to the new normal.
I attempted to take my first ever selfie, sans stick, and really, all I learned was, first, not to take a selfie ever again and, secondly, that I was in desperate need of having my hair colored.
So I got it colored. Mud brown is apparently my new hair color of choice. Yes, it looks just as murky as it sounds.
I was going for a darker, richer look for autumn, but failed. And although I’ve never done this before, I may just go back and ask my stylist to tweak the color, at least a tad, so it doesn’t look so much like I planted my hair in the ground right next to my tomatoes.
Then, meandering back to my car after my misguided dye job, I stumbled upon this. And I smiled.
And now, at long last, it’s Friday. We begin sewing dresses for our girls in need again today, which has put a real skip in my step. Here’s material for a dress I’m working on right now. Can you imagine how it’ll turn out? I’ll reveal the results in a few days.
And this is my contribution to this afternoon’s potluck lunch. It’s a lovely Italian salad with feta, fennel and salami. I’ll post about this soon too.
And then tomorrow, Saturday, is the first Northwestern game day meaning I will have survived an entire week without my boy, and will have earned the hug that I hope to get from him in the biggest way. Even if he has to give it to me in front of his new band friends. Heck, especially if he has to give it to me in front of his new friends!
And then next week it will get easier.
And the next week even more so.
There will be ups and there will be downs, but life will carry on in its own typical, everyday extraordinary way.
Because “Life happens. Not in brightness or darkness, but in the medium light of a regular day”
(Thank you, Patty, for sharing this quote, which helped me make sense of this ordinary, extraordinary week.)