20 things I could tell you.

bratton-green-september-2016

There are probably a hundred or more things I could tell you, right now, right this minute, were it not for the haze of weekend-away-in-an-un-air-conditioned-cabin-sleeping-on-a-top-bunk fatigue.

I could start by telling you:

how one of our dogs beat the tip end of his tail to a bloody pulp while we were out of town because he misses me when I’m gone, and he wags his tail nervously when he’s anxious;

how Commonwealth is probably the very most wrong book for me to be reading at the moment, but I’m going to keep reading it anyway;

how re-living teenage life lessons through a mother’s eyes is utterly excruciating;

how teaching 11-year-old boys to play gin rummy is utterly enjoyable;

how grits are better when served fresh;

how freshly prepared is actually the only reasonable way to serve, or eat, grits;

how living life by simply taking the next step is harder than it sounds;

how disengaging from the news for a weekend now causes me anxiety, which has never, ever been true before;

how peanut M&Ms and red wine make an excellent Sunday night dinner, should your children devour all the chicken, cheese ravioli and salad because they haven’t eaten a proper meal in a day or two;

how I am finished, for the meantime, with church;

how I am not sad or mad or in any way conflicted about this decision;

how when my children say they wish we lived someplace where we could kayak every day, it takes everything in me not to say, “let’s just sell it all and go, right now;”

how I’d somehow forgotten how much I loved Agatha Christie until The Murder of Roger Ackroyd came home as a 7th grade CLUE assignment;

how sublime a long, hot shower can feel;

how laundry cannot miraculously wash itself;

how the endless trail of bloody smears from the anxious dog’s wagging tail cannot miraculously disappear, either;

how one sip of thick, hot, fresh coffee can make any day seem manageable;

how fuzzy thoughts can’t be rushed into clarity;

how I know, I know, I know that the piles of unread newspapers need to go straight into the recycle bin, not stacked bedside to be enjoyed another day, even though I will stack them on the floor by my bed anyway;

how Scarlett was right: tomorrow is another day, and the other 80 or more things I could tell you will have to wait until then.


Food | Week of September 19, 2016

Grilled Cheese (we’ll use sourdough bread, Kerrygold cheddar, mustard & apples) | Broccoli Slaw

Roast Chicken | Avocado Fattoush with Mint Vinaigrette

Buttered Egg Noodles with Parsley | Spicy Grilled Shrimp | Green Beans

Grits Aligot | Tuscan Kale Caesar Slaw

Warm Spinach Salad with Soft-Poached Eggs

25 Comments Add yours

  1. Whew! What a list. Hang in there!

  2. rossmurray1 says:

    That’s a lot mo clarity than I have right now.

  3. Angela Goza says:

    Ugh. Zoe used to do that. They called it, “Happy Tail”. Paint it with liquid bandage. And I hope all of your paint in the house is eggshell!

  4. I have had to disengage from the news indefinitely because it causes such anxiety. I can’t wait until this election cycle is over.

    I understand being done with church. It is full of broken people and odd expectations. I did that for a lot of years until I found the right one. I even changed denominations because the one I grew up in was so, so terrible. May you find peace and clarity. Be well.

    And grits? God only meant them to be eaten fresh. I’m pretty sure I read that in Leviticus somewhere.

  5. Melanie White says:

    So now I cannot wait for wine on the pitch to find out “why” about church – and how do you make you cup if coffee?

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

  6. Julia Bryan says:

    Love it! ❤️

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

  7. Jean T says:

    Jenny, you are my Scarlett….

  8. Commonwealth is on my TBR list. Is it a slow start? I’ve read all Ann Patchett’s books and enjoyed them.

  9. jgroeber says:

    Such a tiny glimpse into a very big life. Thank you for sharing and reminding the rest of us that what we write doesn’t always have to be a dissertation on living, loving or parenting wrapped up in an alliteration bow with a metaphor cherry on top. With your little listy you delivered such goodness.

  10. wyllowpatty says:

    I loved everything about your post this morning, Jennifer. Nodding my head as I read along. Cheese Grits was a specialty of my mother back in the 50’s. I have just sent this recipe to my son. He has been asking. Oh what you said about coffee too. Yes. I was out in the rain watching granddaughter Stella play soccer Saturday and loved every minute. I love that girls play so many sports these days. (Not in my Day!)

    Have a wonderful day!

    Patty

    Sent from my iPad

    >

  11. Michelle says:

    But, wait, what are fresh grits? Corn?

  12. Your 20 things aren’t too different than mine.. *sigh*
    I think I like your idea though, may I borrow it? 🙂

  13. I love the idea of this post, the honest snapshot of a particular moment. Nodded my head to more than a few…. Commonwealth, reliving teenage lessons and not-so-simple next steps. Off to dig up M&Ms for a little recreational research.

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