A Dash of This and a Dollop of That

This is a blog about nothing really. I believe this is the start of my summer vacation. I have no idea where I'll end up or what I'll be doing. That last sentence seems to be my mantra for the past 3 or so years since we moved here.

I've been reading a few books by Robert Fulghum. I am really enjoying them. I was a bit surprised to find out that they are located in the self help section of the book store. His words do make you take a step back and think. He has an unusual way of looking at things, which I find refreshing.

I have found myself to be rather judgmental lately. Catching myself thinking nasty thoughts about people I don't even know and then mentally scolding myself for even having such thoughts. This city just irritates me. Driving in this city is such a pain in the ass, going anywhere is always exhausting. By the time we reach our destination I'm mentally exhausted from having cursed the whole ride there. The people in this city lack all common courtesy and really don't know how to drive. Rarely does anyone allow others to merge, and rarely do I see someone stop at a stop sign. Most of the places we go are within 3 miles of apartment. Driving there usually takes about 20-30 minutes. Metro use is available, and we do facilitate it from time to time. It's really useful for going into DC, otherwise not much use until they make a stop at the grocery store. I would so love that. Our grocery store is 2 miles away and yet I can't seem to ever get there in under 20 minutes.

I've been doing a lot of baking lately. My mother gave me a cookbook dedicated to all things chocolate. The little choir of angels in my head immediately begin to sing once the book is open. I tried my hand at Viennese Chocolate Fingers. A very light cookie. Only has 5 ingredients, all of which are almost always stocked in my baking cabinet.

*Yes, I have a whole cabinet dedicated to all things baking. I am really not OCD, but I am very psychotic about my kitchen. Even my spices are labeled with my label maker and are placed in my spice rack in alphabetical order. I wish I could say that's as crazy as it gets, but it gets much much worse.*

Anyways, the cookies are not hard to make. They do take a long time, you have to pipe out the cookies, and wait for them to cool entirely before you dip them in chocolate. They are a lot of fun to make. It is nice to know that no matter how chaotic my day may be at work, cooking always soothes me. When I take my baked goods into work I'm always asked "Why don't you do this for a living?" and I always respond the same "Because I love it". I know that sounds odd, why wouldn't you want to be paid to do what you love? Quite simply, because I don't want what I love to become a source a stress. Culinary arts are just that, art. Creative freedom. The presentation, the display. I love that. I have a display case on my counter where I proudly display the weeks baked goods. It's like playing store. Lift up the glass dome and enjoy!

Eventually I'll get the proper shape. Until then, they'll all be different sizes. *Which annoys me.

Anyhow, still waiting to hear if we're moving or not. I really, really hope we are. I love moving. It gives me an excuse to go through my past belongings and say good bye to the crap I don't use and forgot I had. Most people allow themselves a junk drawer. You know, a place to put the odds and ends that don't really have a place. Monica from FRIENDS used the closet. I allow myself a box. A Jimmy John's sub box to be exact. I have it placed in my coat closet. It's my only thing that is slightly chaotic. As I reflect, I'm beginning to realize that perhaps I am a bit OCD. My linen closet is broken down into sections. For example, the floor under the shelves is where I keep the toilet cleaner and brushes, the shelf above that is all cleaning supplies-organized and facing out so you can read all the labels, next shelf up is toiletries and our first aide kit...again all organized and labels facing out (always stocked with shampoo/conditioner, soaps so that we're never in an "Oh crap we ran out of _______" moment), the shelf above that are our towels organized by color, then above that our sheets-organized by what type and again yes color/season, above that our air mattress and extra pillows.

Good lord even my closet is organized. I do not have a dresser. All of my clothes are organized into sections. The ones that hang are placed into these sections: Button up, if they have to be worn over something, dress, and casual. Each section is then organized by sleeve length, and if it's a dress-they're organized by where they fall. My pants are organized by occasion and by length. I seriously have issues.

You will not find one cabinet that isn't organized in my apartment. I sort of, in a sick way take comfort in that fact. I know where things are even if my life is a mess.

I'll end on that note.

Crazy

This past week has just been insane. We planned on seeing the Granger's over Memorial Day weekend, it was supposed to be a down and up trip. One weekend. Then, Wednesday (26th) Andy schedules an interview down in Tallahassee the following week. Mom calls me in the morning to tell me that Grandma is not doing so well and that she likely wouldn't last too much longer. Our 3 day get away, turned into a long week adventure. I got the news Grandma passed on Friday morning, the morning we left for the Granger's.

The weekend was fun for the most part. The ride down was hard, I always hate driving long distances. It gives my mind too much opportunity to wander. I kept thinking about my Grandma and getting on the verge of tears, then I would remind myself that she is in a much better place and that she is no longer suffering. Episodes like that happened frequently over the weekend, any time I wasn't otherwise amused with something my mind would wander. I stayed up late watching shows on my computer just so that I could deny my mind a chance to dwell. Overall, it was a bittersweet weekend. I had a lot of fun times and it was nice to see my friends. I took tons of pictures.

Then we headed off to Tallahassee. A 10 hour drive from Greensboro. We arrived at Rico's house and went out for a drink. We ate lunch at his restaurant the following day. Very strange. There is no menu. You get seated and are handed a silver bowl with an idea list on what to make. You take your bowl to the buffet style line and load up on meat (all raw), seasonings, vegetables, sauce, and select your starch. You give your bowl to the chef in the back who makes your food on a giant grill. They give you ideas, or recipe cards you can choose from, or you can make whatever comes to mind. It was very good, and inexpensive. The margarita was fantastic.

Andy's interview took about 3 hours. He feels good about it, but we won't know anything for about a couple of weeks.

Then we left to drive home. We got into PBG that night. The next morning was the funeral. As soon as I walked into the room with the casket I had to cry. My grandma was a beautiful woman. Always had a joke, poem, or song for ANY occasion. She was, your fairy tale grandmother. All about the kids. I miss her very much. The memorial service was wonderful. Her music therapist, minister, and sons took turns. They had my grandmother playing on the speakers above, reciting one of her poems. Mom did not prepare me for what happened next. You see, at our wedding my grandmother sang the song "Always".

These are the lyrics-

I'll be loving you always,

With a love that's true always.

When the things you plan

Need a helping hand,

I will understand, always, always....

Days may not be fair always,

That's when I'll be there always,

Not for just an hour,

Not for just a day,

Not for just a year, but always.

Her musical therapist got up there and sang that song. I think you could hear my snot tears all the way in the back, along with the heaving that you do when you're trying to suppress the cry. You know what I mean, you do that huh huh huh huh huh, try and take a deep breathe and then huh huh huh huh huh.

After that I was OK. They played a song my grandma used to sing a lot over the speakers, and she ended it with the words "I got a standing ovation for that one" and we all clapped. We drove to the cemetery, and Erika (Grammy's musical therapist) sang some more songs. I was good until she sang a song that they both sang together a lot, "You are my Sunshine". The second and third verses it went "Ginny is our sunshine, our only sunshine, she makes you happy when skies are grey" and so on and so forth. If you knew my Grandma, you'd know that's how she'd want to go out. Music and poems. It was beautiful and tragic all at the same time.

The next day I spent with my family. Kristi was working, so Mom and Jeff and I all went out and did some errands. I had a yummy mid-day meal with the Jones'. The following day, mom got new tires put on my car. A gift from Grandma she says, since that was my inheritance she used to get them. Fine by me.

This week I don't have much worked lined up. One day so far. I'll be working on my Grandma's cookbook in the meantime.