I still miss her every single day and continue to shed tears for her often.
Best office conversation ever today in the kitchen/break room:
Me – I heard a story on the radio today about people deciding whether to circumsize their baby boys.
Kara – My nephew is circumsized.
T – My son is circumsized – he healed really quickly.
Enter A, a sweet, mild-mannered young woman I don’t know extremely well.
A – What are you guys talking about? A begins making her oatmeal.
Kara – Penises!
A – God, that sounds good!
Kara, T, and I look at each other. Did she just say that? A continues to make her oatmeal as though she had just asked about the weather. She looks up and sees our surprised faces.
A – Didn’t you say pizza?
Confession time: I’ve finally come to terms with it. I don’t like to cook. There I said it. I’m not sure why I was in denial for so long – maybe because my mom and grandma are such good cooks and I feel like I should follow suit, maybe because I engage in a lot of other Martha Stewarty pastimes so it seems like it would be natural. But Betty Crocker I’m not. I can follow a recipe and the food I cook usually tastes fine. But I don’t enjoy it at all and I have been finding more and more ways to cheat – frozen food from Trader Joe’s, Grilled Cheese once a week, and when I’m really scraping the bottom of the motivation barrel, Cereal Night. It got so bad that I would rather just not eat dinner some nights than cook when I get home from work. So Randy stepped in and has become the Head Chef at Chez Marksberry. An actual conversation from the other night:
Randy: (after making that night’s dinner and putting together a casserole for the next night) “I really enjoyed cooking tonight!”
Me: “Oh good – because I really enjoyed NOT cooking tonight.”
So this new set-up is really working for me. Because I like to eat real food – and if it were up to me we’d eat out at a nice-ish restaurant every night. But Randy has sensibly pointed out on more than one occasion that we don’t actually have unlimited restaurant money and we need to eat at home most nights. So I guess this is the next best thing. However my schedule this winter has me working at home on Spotted Elephant business every Tuesday and I have vowed to make Tuesday my real-no-cheat cooking day. I think I can stomach it once a week.
Tonight was meatloaf night featuring green bean casserole and mashed potatoes (okay, Bob Evan’s made the mashed potatoes but give me a break – I made my own mashed potatoes once and they turned out gluey and not nearly worth the time) with baked cinnamon sugar sweet potatoes for dessert. When I have a whole day to work with and the recipe is not too involved, cooking is not total drudgery. But I don’t want to make a habit of it.
Today we finally turned the corner in the craft room. I can tell because I no longer feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack every time I enter. I call that success.
The Big Picture:
Yarn sorted by fiber type AND color! I’ve died and gone to heaven.
Fabric scraps folded and sorted by color. Its Christmas all over again.
A beautiful basket of my favorite fat quarters. I like just gazing at it.
Watch out – get ready for some serious crafting, the likes of which this town has never seen.
Why do I still get all tingly-excited when I get the word that its a snow day? I don’t get paid on snow days so I should hate them – but I’ve been so conditioned to yearn for them that I can’t stop now.
Top 3 “Snow Day” Memories:
So I had visions of being able to organize the craft room in a couple hours, thanks to my new organizational system. But I failed to take into account the shear volume of crap I had stuffed into the room. And now I keep having visions of being buried alive under piles of ribbon, quilt batting, tulle, yarn balls, safety pins, glue sticks, fabric scraps, sewing templates, silk flowers, wrapping paper, ric rac, velcro, elastic bands, crochet hooks, sewing patterns, beads, tracing paper, felted sweaters, bobbins, and mounds of half-finished projects. I had to take a break after three hours. I think this is going to take a few days and maybe some PTSD therapy. Here’s what we’ve got so far…
These pics are deceptive – things don’t look so bad…
The true horror lurks in other places – like the closet picture below. And this doesn’t even match the deep dark corner of the room I couldn’t even look at long enough to photograph.
But seriously – I’m totally psyched that I have the opportunity to create such an organized and functional crafting space. I will feel so official when its all done!