Back to real life

 

 

Jordan and Sophie
Twelve years ago, plus
Sophie seems to be on themend, so it’s back to real life at our compound. Tomorrow is Jordan’s birthday—mySt. Patrick’s baby. I won’t say what birthday it is, but here’s a hint: nextyear is a biggie. She has an all-day come-and-go party planned for tomorrow ata local hamburger joint/sports bar (I’m sort of guessing what it is, because it’snot on my circuit). None of my friends have been included—as she said tonight, “Noadults.” I reminded her that she and her friends are adults now, many of themin their fifties. But I get that mindset and it’s okay, Anyway I will not be atthis all-day celebration (and miss my nap? No way). As she pointed out, it willbe everything I don’t like—loud, noisy, crowded. So tonight, we had her birthdaydinner, the same dinner she’s requested since she was old enough to request:tacos.

There’s a bit of a storybehind that menu choice. For the first forty-seven years of her life, Jordanthought she was half Hispanic. That’s what we’d been told by the Edna GladneyHome, and we dutifully set about keeping her informed of her heritage, just aswe did for Jamie with his half-Chinese background. For years, Jordan resistedany kind of genetic testing, but a few years ago she broke down and did 23andMe.The results showed that she is almost a hundred per cent northern European. Sheadmitted it came as quite a shock after thinking of herself as Hispanic allthese years. So while she might have asked for bangers and mash or shepherd’spie for her birthday, she stuck with tacos.

Christian was out of town allday and late to our taco party. He had stopped, per my request, at the store toget things needed for the tacos but by the time he arrived we had eaten, so nowI have two heads of leaf lettuce, a bag of Fritos, and I don’t know what elsethat I won’t use. The sharp cheddar I will always use. I thought the meat wasdry, but Christian pointed out that sour cream, cheese, and guac hide amultitude of faults.

No cake. Jordan didn’t wantone, so I had chocolate bonbons after they went inside.

In the spirit of getting backto reality, I wrote a thousand words on my Irene novel last night—so close tothe end and yet so far; it is tantalizing to have it in sight. Except that justwhen I thought I could wrap things up, the mystery solved, the bad personcaught, a new plot twist plopped into my mind and won’t go away. I only haveone sentence in my mind, and I have no idea where it will lead me. Also, lastnight, I blogged and finished the novel I was being slow about reading. So Ifeel all caught up and a bit righteous.

Last night’s dinner guest, mygood friend Jean, cancelled because she had a cold. I didn’t open the can ofsardines in preserved lemon that I intended to serve, but I did make myself agood-sized panzanella (Italian bread salad)—so good. Tomorrow night, when thekids are celebrating all day (a concept I struggle to understand) neighbors areto come for happy hour, but now that is uncertain because the wife injured herhand badly enough for an hours-long, middle-of-the-night ER visit. I’m justletting that be on hold.

And the day’s Sophie report:she was responsive this morning and obviously happy to have Jordan pet her, butI thought just a bit more lethargic. The tech explained there had been a problemwith a catheter and fixing it had probably worn her out, plus she had just beenfor a walk an hour earlier. So maybe she was tired, which her panting wouldindicate. When we were ready to leave, she obviously wanted to go with us andstood before the door to the lobby. When the tech urged her out the doorleading to the kennel, she braced her feet and resisted for a moment, but thenwent docilely along. She is a good girl, but I think she is ready to go home. Myheart and my pocketbook are ready to have her home. Apparently, they don’twelcome visitors nor ever discharge patients on Sunday, so we are on hold. Ourvet, who I like a whole lot, will be back on Monday, and I am hoping we canmove this along.

Meantime, I leave you with aquote. There is a Tyler Farr folksong chorus that goes:

I wish love wasn't so hard.
I wish people could stay together.
I wish girls couldn't break hearts.
And dogs could live forever.

But I have seen anotherversion, and I can’t quote the early lines, but the end is: “I wish dogs livedforever and chocolate cake wasn’t fattening.” I love that, and if I ever comeacross it again, I’ll share.

Meantime, sweet dreams, happydays, and thanks for being my friends.