3. Newly-licensed driver! Stay the hell clear of my baby boy and don’t you dare hurt him!
4. If you see this kid using a cell phone while driving, call me at xxx-xxxx. But pull over before you dial.
5. If you are using a cell phone right now and can see this sign, pull the hell over before you hit my baby, or anyone’s baby!
6. Yes, this is the old family mini-van and it’s not at all sexy or sporty, but he’s a newly-licensed driver and it’s this or nothing at all. Don’t judge.
7. Please pray for the safety of all our young drivers.
8. Please pray for the mothers of all our young drivers.
Dear Husband asked me to join him on the patio swing this afternoon. Hurricane Isaias had blown through in the early hours of the morning, and a gentle, tropical-feeling breeze was blowing. We nibbled on some chips and salsa, and chatted about our daily life during a pandemic.
We are both frustrated that CoVid numbers are going up, and that people are still resisting the pleas to wear masks and to not gather in large groups.
The virus is here to stay, probably forever. Our behaviors have changed, probably forever. Our frustrations and yes, our anger, have become part of our mindsets–but will they last forever?
I cannot wait for the time when this pandemic is water under the bridge.
Today’s drink, a vodka watermelon lime cocktail, made use of the leftover watermelon in the refrigerator. I squeezed a few chunks in a potato ricer until I had enough juice.
In a glass with several ice cubes, combine 2 ounces watermelon juice, 2 ounces vodka, 1 ounce fresh lime juice, and 1/2 ounce maple syrup. Stir well and strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with fresh mint leaves and/or watermelon chunks.
Throwback to August 3, 2011. The gratitude continues!
1. God is kind and merciful.
2. We are blessed with generous and compassionate friends who have extended their support in many ways.
3. Bad news travels across the country super-quickly–as did the prayer network–so Husband should now stop poo-poo’ing FB and text messaging.
4. Keep a list of all family members’ medications AND DOSAGES in your wallet. In times of crisis and near-panic, even those of us with superior intellect and memory (ha!) have difficulty recalling those fancy prescription names.
5. Pour yourself an alcoholic beverage BEFORE opening the hospital bill, not after, because your hands will be shaking too much to pour efficiently if you open the bill first. Take a deep gulp, then say a prayer of thanksgiving for health insurance.
6. Look at the faces of your beloved husband and children sitting with you at the supper table. Realize that you are living in one of those commercials: “Hospital bills: $xxx,xxx. Doctor bills: $xxx,xxx. Saturday evening with the whole family happy and together: priceless.” (OK, so I’m sappy tonight, and I don’t care.)
7. Make sure you and your spouse have your legal documents in order. Last year, before our trip to England, we updated our wills, powers of attorney, and advance medical directives (shudder!). While at the hospital,I signed a stack of papers on behalf of Husband, and they did request a copy of POA. Yes, it’s morbid to think about and morbid to think about what fees your attorney will charge for all this, but having all this in place will give you peace of mind.
8. Make a serious appraisal of your life, health, and disability insurance. Here’s a grotesque twist of fate: Husband and I did this on the evening before his totally unexpected illness. We decided that our current level of disability insurance was not enough to sustain our lifestyle and put three kids through college. Then he quipped that he was fine and healthy so we needn’t worry. Yeah, fate has a sick sense of humor.
9. Keep smiling, even when it hurts. Case in point: Husband looks up from the model car he is assembling at dining room table, and states,”Take a good look at me. This is what my retirement will be like. Model building, and pants-optional-days. Yup, this is what you have to look forward to.”
10. Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em. Hubby went back to work this week, but only for 4 hours a day with a mandatory afternoon nap. I was enjoying having him home, but I am also enjoying getting back to our normal routine.
11. Take a notebook to each medical appointment and write down what the doctors tell you. Ask for help with spelling,too, so you can look it up when you get home.
12. Don’t let the internet scare you about each and every danger of the five POSSIBLE problems Hubby may have. Wait for test results patiently, and do not obsess about highly-unlikely scenarios. Do not obsess. I repeat, do not obsess.
13. Holiday dates are arbitrary. All that matters is that the family is together, and laughing, and not the actual date on the calendar. Tonight we celebrated our traditional “Christmas in July” — a bit late– by playing Christmas music during supper. It was a riot.
1. Your mother gets obsessed with the buying process and is capable of spending countless hours doing internet research on all the suitable cars within a 200 mile radius of home.
2. Once you tell your mother your top two make and model choices, you may not offer her more possibilities, because she had already spent countless hours doing internet research and she knows there are millions of vehicles out there and you will make her insane by adding more options to her obsession.
3. One inquiring email to one dealership will blossom into dozens of return emails from a dealership.
4. Most dealerships will not just be content with emails. In addition, the dealerships will flood your home answering machine with peppy, happy, hopeful messages about the perfect vehicle for you that they–and only they–can provide.
5. The title holders of the vehicle (in this case, your parents) are the legal owners. The title holders can therefore set rules for how the vehicle is maintained and operated.
6. There is just so much paperwork involved in the final purchase of a vehicle.
7. Pay attention to all the legal and financial transactions involved in the process, since next time, you’re on your own.
8. A used car lot in sketchy condition is the first sign that the rest of your encounter with that business will likewise be sketchy.
9. A salesman who is fond of aftershave but not fond of buttons on his shirt may not be making a good impression on your mother.
10. A salesman who says “God bless” about a half dozen times to you is obviously calling on Jesus to save the situation, because it will take a miracle for your parents to agree to buy the car this guy is selling.
11. A dealership blasting rock and roll music into the parking lot may be a fun place to hang out, but not necessarily a wise place to conduct business.
12. When the salesman mutters to you, “We really didn’t make any money on this,” he is lying. The dealership is a business with a goal of scoring a financial gain, and the dealership will not close the deal out of pity or altruism.
13. Trust your parents, because we have done this before. Age is wisdom.
14. Exterior color and shiny accessories are superficial. Pay attention to what’s under the hood. Cars are like people. They may be just so very pretty and appealing on the outside, but if the inside is not well-maintained, you are better off not becoming attached, not to mention making a long-term commitment.
False claims about the coronavirus and its cures are everywhere, but when these claims are re-tweeted by those in positions of power and living at the White House? It’s enough to make my brain explode.
Yesterday, the claims were made–in a video that quickly went viral– by a group calling itself “America’s Frontline Doctors.” A little further digging uncovered that one member believes that alien DNA is currently used in making medication, and that sex with demons (while you dream?!) leads to uterine disorders and miscarriages, among other things.
It should be enough to make any thinking person’s brain explode.
I couldn’t let today go by without a drink to “honor” these people of zero-credibility.
Pour one ounce apricot brandy into a shot glass. Pour several drops of grenadine down the side of the glass. Using the back of a teaspoon, slowly pour 1/2 ounce of cream liqueur, such as Bailey’s Irish Cream, into the glass. Enjoy the “exploded brain” look for a bit, then stir and sip.
Life is precious, and every moment should be cherished, even when life is far from the “normal.”
It’s not been a fun July, but we are adapting. And we are clinging to the hope–depicted on the smiling-poop-emoji birthday card presented to me by Youngest Son–that “this too shall pass.”
For now, we look for the simple–and safe–pleasures that can be found close to home.
Nine years ago today, my family was facing the most critical medical emergency that any of us had ever experienced. Our “normal” was almost permanently taken away from us within minutes. Thanks to a skilled medical team, a well-equipped hospital, and lots of prayers, our story had a happy ending, but we try every day to never take life for granted.
We got a second chance. My heart aches for all the pandemic victims and families who did not get a second chance.
Stay strong, my dear family and friends. May you stay safe and protected.
Today’s cocktail is gentle and soothing, and is helping me to use up the dried-rose-petal tea from the back shelf.
Add a tablespoon of rose-petal tea to 8 ounces boiling water. Steep until cool enough to strain. Chill, then add 1 ounce white rum, 1 ounce simple syrup, and 1/2 ounce lemon juice. Stir, add ice, and garnish with dried petal bits.
1. I made him clean out the refrigerator, clear away all the crumbs, and wash every shelf and drawer inside and out.
2. I bought him a navy Calvin Klein suit, patiently explained why alterations were needed, and laid out my expectations that he will indeed wear this suit on special occasions.
3. I took him to Crate and Barrel, where we examined all the kitchen tools and discussed their usage. He was especially fascinated by the cherry pitter.
4. I took him to La Difference furniture store, where he “test-sat” in dozens of chairs and oohed and aahed the gorgeous modern, European pieces.
5. As he began to covet the furniture, I explained that he could only afford such pieces if he went to college, got good grades, and found a solid job.
6. I enlisted his help in balancing my checkbook.
7. As he began to express dismay at the amount of monthly bills, I explained that he could only afford to run his own household if he went to college, got good grades, and found a solid job.
8. I have re-assured him that cooking supper and folding laundry are no more emasculating than weed pulling and lawn mowing. This morning, however, he chose lawn mowing over laundry duty.
9. I complimented him on his masculinity as I gently applied baking soda and ice packs to the 4 hornet stings that occurred during previously-mentioned lawn mowing.
This morning Dear Husband reminded me that today is the 29th anniversary of my 29th birthday. (His timing wasn’t great–I normally don’t appreciate being reminded that I am growing older. But then he presented me with a gift and a mushy card, so I forgave him.)
We tried to remember my first 29th birthday. I was a new mom with a 6 month old, so I was probably sleep-deprived. We probably did not go out for drinks, and we probably took photos of me and the baby in front of a store-bought cake. I don’t remember, really. I was undoubtedly happy with my life, and wondering what the future held in store for me and my young family.
Today’s birthday is definitely going to be one I will never forget, thanks to our current pandemic. My sweet girlfriends have dropped gifts on my porch, but I couldn’t hug any of them. The only people that will share my birthday cake are Husband and Youngest Son.
I couldn’t bear to have the day go by without doing something fun, something to pamper me a bit, something splurge-worthy. (I can be selfish on my birthday–don’t judge me!) I discovered that a local vineyard had set up a “pop-up” restaurant (cheekily named “Phase II”) on its deck, and had covered it with a canopy, so providing shade but not obstructing the view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Husband and I split a lovely bottle of Chardonnay Reserve, nibbled on smoked trout and salads, indulged in perfectly-grilled scallops, and finished with a flight of mini-pies.
WE ATE ON REAL PLATES AND HAD ACTUAL SILVERWARE AND CLOTH NAPKINS! Yes, we have eaten “out” in the outdoors several times this summer, but this was the first place so far to not use paper products and plastic cups. I cannot tell you how absolutely NORMAL that felt! Oh, how I missed those simple pleasures!
And yes, all the tables were spread out, and all the staff members were wearing masks. We were outdoors, in a gentle breeze, and we felt quite safe.
As we ate, the dark clouds started gathering above the mountains, and soon we heard rumbles of thunder. The rain started to pelt the canopy, but we just laughed and refilled our glasses.
But, this is 2020, right? Something had to go wrong. Just as we finished dessert, the storm was directly over us. The winds started to knock down the smaller tents on the property, and the rain started coming in sideways under our canopy. All the guests were shooed indoors to wait it out. But I was still smiling–our lunch had been glorious, and I will never forget it.
Today’s “cocktail” was quick to make, and includes some of my favorite flavors, colors, and textures.
I simply poured a shot of mocha-cream liqueur and topped it with whipped cream and sprinkles. Looks festive, and tastes great alongside cake.
Monica Lists 