Frosty glass for gin
It’s 15 years today since my Dad died. I’ve got a glass with a twist of lemon frosting in the freezer, and I have Triscuits and gin, I’ll buy a little spreadin’ cheese to go with, and a yahrzeit candle. Maybe I can find a better online recitation of mourners’ kaddish than the one I’ve been using, to listen to when I light the candle, and recreate Dad’s regular after work snack – a finger or two of gin over ice with a twist, and a few crackers and cheese, at about 6:30 when he got home from work.
I’m feeling nostalgic for what seemed like happier, simpler times – the 90s. I was in my 30s, and then my 40s. I think I looked my best in my 40s. My kids were little, and then middle schoolers, but not high schoolers yet – not driving and drinkng and scaring me to death all the time. And it’s almost worse now, because they’re grown ups – and I still worry about them but can’t do much of anything except send money and be a sympathetic ear. I was young and pretty with young kids and my parents were still alive to take care of me.
I’m also feeling guilty – still in PJs for a work-at-home day, on which I am determined to finish my paper for dread systems analysis class. It’s soooo boring. And I also need to work on my sections of one of my assigned chapters in the library school’s accreditation report. The work I handed in on Tuesday was unacceptable. Sigh.
And, later this afternoon, I am going to go cookie ingredient shopping and pick up my 1st winter share CSA box, with just about everything (see sidebar) for Thanksgiving dinner except the turkey (that I get Saturday from Matt. My CSA farmers says they’re cooking one of Matt’s birds, too)
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So I thought, since I was getting an early start on work, I could do a little housekeeping. I did a load of wash, at least that’s done. I ordered my priority mail boxes for shipping cookies, and I really need to inventory the cookie ingredients I’ve already got, so that I don’t over buy, in this year of so much less money to spend on anything. Pay bills so that I know what I can spend.
But somehow it’s late already – the trash truck has been down the street, and [retired guy] Mark’s getting up. Better get going …
