Mom, you are disgusting

I should be doing about a dozen other things besides updating this blog. But, oh, well.

When I was a small child, visiting my dad, the food choices were either exotic or low class- depending on how you look at these sorts of things. One dinner which Jason and I enjoyed immensely, was sardines lined up on a piece of buttered bread. Yummy. Sometimes dad would go to this very particular butcher, and have the highest quality sirloin ground up. We would go home and dad would mix it with various things, shape it into patties, place it on wheat bread with thick sliced onion and plenty of freshly ground black pepper, and voila! Dinner was served. I never thought anything about what I ate, except that I was always hungry and I enjoyed everything.

Occasionally, I get a hankering for a nice tin of sardines, bathed in oliver oil, lined up neatly, and waiting to be a tasty snack. Also, steak tartar, or pickled herring, smoked oysters, mmmm. All a culinary delight to me, and an object of scorn and disgust to my picky offspring. I guess I should have served them up such things when they were Vivvie's age. Maybe it isn't too late to work on Vivian. I do have a leftover sardine here.....

Another day

I'm rather overwhelmed to say the least, and at a general low point. My girlfriend brought me dinner for the family yesterday. It was really great. In the big bag of dinner items, there was this amazing layer bar about 3 inches square, with a thick buttery graham cracker crust, coconut, chocolate chips, and then walnut halves across the top. I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch because I wasn't hungry. And looking at this bar, I still wasn't hungry but I decided to take a little tiny taste....which was followed by another little tiny taste, and then a bite, until only half the bar remained.

Oliver watched me take a bite from the very back of the suburban and said,"mom, what are you eating?" To which I responded," A little taste of heaven." Oliver thought about this and said," Well, I want a little taste of heaven!"

I thought Jon only had one class remaining after this semester, but it turns out he has two classes. Some weeknights he won't get home until 10pm. Joy.

Charles has been saying a lot of funny things, but whenever I sit to hastily type out the stories, they leave my mind entirely.

I haven't been home cleaning, cooking, shopping, organizing, etc., for a Saturday in months. I think the last time may have been pre-June of this year. Jon and I decided that this Saturday, we would forget that hundreds of babies will be slaughtered and 5 people will actually care enough to go out to the abortion mills--in order to get our household into some semblance of order. With this decided, I looked at my calendar for Saturday. I had already committed to being at a community event in Atlanta from noon until about 6pm. Sigh. Well, at least we'll have the morning.

I LOVE people who call me and keep me on the phone "solving" all my problems. "What you need is a house keeper....what you need are volunteers to make phone calls everyday....what you need is someone you can train to take your place half the time and give you a break....what you need is a secretary..." These type of people should be gathered out of the general public and put on an island together. They'll all sit on the beach talking about what they need and die of starvation 10 feet from the coconut trees.

The nice thing about being at rock bottom is that you can only go up. I really thought I was going to get a flat tire yesterday, just because it seems like a good time for everything to go wrong. I didn't get the flat tire, which confirmed in my illogical state of lowness that I truly am at the bottom.