Can you say psyop?

How are you? I ask so I can share that I am in a weird place. Really you say. Yes, I reply. Let me tell you I'm experiencing low level anxiety behind the mostly happy, peaceful facade. On one hand I'm baking loaf of bread after loaf of bread and delivering them warm with fancy butter. On the other, I'm researching bug out bags, heirloom seeds and generators.

I'm getting the news from various sources all day long (yes, highly problematic). What is happening? Take Paris. Are these really students wreaking all this havoc? According to the "mainstream media," yes. These frustrated kids want more teachers and desks. X and reels show something much different and very sinister. What is real? I can honestly say that I'm not sure anymore.

Last night I was scrolling through my phone and the algorithm became glaringly obvious: every fourth video was political unrest. Riots in France, and Greece, Amsterdam, which I'm not seeing anywhere else. The other three were thrifting, Broadway shows and bread baking. Makes some sense. I stepped into a Goodwill recently in search of a big old bowl for mixing my sourdough and now I'm inundated with influencers proving that one man's junk is another's treasure. I searched for entertainment options for my upcoming trip to NYC on my PC and the bread baking is obvious and quite honestly, welcome. Nothing new here, just disturbing. We know our phones are listening to us and yet we make it so easy to be Big Brothered. We keep them in hand day and night.

AI only muddies the water. The ability to create, manipulate, and distort information is a real problem. Agendas and objectives must be considered...questioned. Heck, everything must be questioned. Everyone. And do your research...your due diligence because life as we know it is perched on the precipice. 

Warning- Rant to Follow

 I. give. up.

I'm officially depressed. Literally down and out.

Yesterday I had a fight with the hose and the hose won. I mean my toe (broken), knee (sore), elbow (aching), and hand (bruised) had a fight. I got tangled up while watering and went down, took out a full bucket of water and skidded across the pavement. I sat still, soaked and stunned while the chippies raced around me stuffing their cheeks with peanuts paying zero attention to my lack of grace. I was grateful for the tree cover shielding me from entertaining my neighbors.

Okay it could have been worse, but there goes the many after work walks I was so looking forward. Shoes are out of the question for the foreseeable future. Restricted activity will leave plenty of time to attempt to sort what is going on with my starter. Despite lots of feedings, it doesn't seem to be fermenting. I'm guessing my ratios are off. It's my first solo effort, and I'm hoping it's not my last because an airy, tangy slice of bread with butter would make me feel much better right now.

July's End

I cut out of work early hoping to sneak in a walk before the rain moves in. A steady soaking we desperately need. Sadly, my timing's not good. The resident meteorologist here at Casa Wags says any minute now and I can feel it in my lungs and bones. When I woke to clouds this morning, I rejoiced. I'm that gray day loving weirdo. The sun is not my friend. I spent a couple hours on the beach Sunday, most of it under an umbrella, yet still all week I've been plagued by an itchy rash. It's called Polymorphic Light Eruption. Believe me...it's sounds much sexier than it is. But my love for Lake Michigan trumps my discomfort.

Sunday was my first lake swim of the season. The water's been too cold. It took some time getting in, but boy was it refreshing and on the sand bar it was even warmish. It was such a strange day though: a milky haze obscured the reach. The absence of a horizon was otherworldly. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was inhabiting a liminal space, but there's nothing faint about toes in the sand or a lake breeze against my skin or the subtle smell of the water...musky and metallic and fresh in the same breath.

I miss my brother's house on the beach. It's still a vacant lot, but the Tree House at the top of the hill has it's own unique magic. We had dinner on the deck in the trees listening to the eagles pipe and chirp and other birds Merlin identified, but we did not see. It was a beautiful night and a nice ending to a weekend that was pretty chill.

The speed of summer thus far has been a self-imposed slow. I wouldn't have it any other way even though at times I almost feel guilty for it. I blame the noise, which I am usually pretty good at ignoring. As long as I have my cats, a book, a bowl of cherries, some chilled chardonnay and my peeps, I'm good.

This is the first summer in twenty some years that back to school isn't looming in the purview. The kids are gainfully employed and forging their paths. Lily is moving out of her house in Madison this weekend, but she's been home since June. She's welcome to stay as long as she wants despite the fact that she's not the neatest member of the fam. The lack of a a hard stop on summer is definitely something new and unfamiliar even as the tell-tale signs of time passing are present: the hydrangeas are browning, the grass is dormant with the drought, the fireflies light up the yard every night and me and my girl are poised to celebrate another year around the sun soon.

So while I sit here a tad wistful, I know that July's end beckons August's beginning and that's not so bad. Every new beginning might be some other beginnings end, but it's not closing time.  

The Glad Game

I almost cannot believe I didn't mention the weather in yesterday's post. Don't worry...back to regular programming. It's cat on a hot tin roof scorching. It's supposed to be. It's almost July. I'm not a heat seeker, but I'm going to Windmill Beach this weekend and Lake Michigan is still in the refreshing 50's so a little hot air is all good to tease the cold plunge swimming will be. I'm feeling extra patriotic this 250th birthday. And while we are still a baby nation, we should be mostly proud of what we have achieved in our infancy. We're on a precarious precipice without doubt, but this is not the time to cut down and divide...it's a time to celebrate, lift up and look ahead with a shared resolve to mend and grow. And to notice that we are better than this dumpster fire we can't seem to extinguish.

This morning when I opened the blind, I was greeted by the best sign of hope. Our resident bluebird was perched on the telephone wire seemingly looking right at me. I decided then and there that I was going to channel my inner Polyanna all day and maybe all week. I'm playing the Glad Game.

By the time I made it downstairs to make my mug of hot lemon water, which I have neglected lately for my new iced coffee obsession, the cranes were in the yard at their watering hole. They are the coolest creatures. The other day I went to put some seed down for them and they started to approach me from the middle of the yard. I was a couple feet from them, which was surreal. Mike and I laugh that we are are now those people who fuss over the birds in the yard.

It was a short day in the office for me. I'm not feeling work much this week. It's a good thing the rest of the world seems to share that sentiment. If it were up to me, there would be shut-downs the weeks of the 4th, Thanksgiving and Christmas through New Years. Luckily I have the flexibility now to make that happen, but for the better part of my working years, if the stock market was trading, I was working. Life is so much better now.

I came home early to snuggle Hazel and start Anne Patchet's new novel, Whistler. My parents brought it as a hostess gift on Father's Day and I have to say that a new book is my new favorite treat for having a party. I was in after just a couple pages. I'm going to have to show restraint so that I can bring it to the beach this weekend along with our new cabana towels, my sour cherry tart, and the ingredients for refreshing transfusions, my summer drink.

 

 

Answers

What brings me here? Nothing in particular and everything. Capisce? 

I was one of those English major geeks who decorated my mortar board with a literary quote. It was fitting because what I did not know thirty-five years ago was how often Zora Neale Hurston's words would give me comfort, pause, purpose. She wrote, "There are years that ask questions and years that answer." These words have stood the test of time.

Saturday I reunited with an old friend who was like a sister to me after what we agreed was a fifteen year hiatus. I wasn't apprehensive because I was sure that we'd pick up as if no time has passed. I didn't just know her. I understood her. She got me too...the good, the bad and the ugly. I had faith that that kind of knowing remains. I was right.

Over the past decade and a half, I thought about her now and then (usually when I was cooking) and had an idea of how she was from her cousin who I would see periodically. I often thought, I should reach out, but I didn't. I didn't until a couple months ago when I saw something on Instagram and decided it was silly to be living on the periphery. I'm grateful I got over my ego. Ego was never a thing with us so why was I making it a thing? It was time to stop asking but, what if and just act. This past weekend...my question was answered.

That's the real beauty of this well done middle spot I'm in. Time is a commodity and knowing this and also finally myself, well...what can I say...I'm answering questions with a clarity and certainty that was elusive when I was younger and definitely not wiser. 

The other beauty of age is that instead of ruing and regretting the lost time, I'm jazzed we reconnected and buoyed by the fact I think we'll not pick up where we left off, but anew.

Something tells me this is going to be a year of answers because I'm ready for and open to them. That's a good place to be.

What is True?

 Do the things in your story really happen?

 Isn't that the question when it comes to life? 

Did this really happen to me?

~Lidia Yuknavitch  

I got home yesterday right before the skies opened up and the rain came down. That was the perfect invitation to lay down and pick up my book. The Chronology of Water is as heavy as the sodden air, and I'm okay with that. I like an afternoon storm and a broody read especially together. Memory is at the center of this memoir...the things we remember, the unreliability of our memories, the hold they have on us and the way we can harness their power. And then, of course, there is the whole discussion about what does it matter how or what exactly happened if it makes us feel a certain way.

This is the kind of story that must be taken in small doses. It's raw and painful, and provocative. I closed my eyes after a while and confronted a far away memory I know is incomplete. It's a pivotal part of who I am so many years later. Some missing parts came to me. These pieces brought with them a welcome wave of peace even as I still have holes. We are the sum of so many parts plenty unknown to us. We take what we can get.

I often ask myself what do I know to be absolutely true. This is an existential question that is worth exploring but almost impossible to answer...at least for me. Truth is absolute and so little in this life is unadulterated, pure, outright. 

  

Brrr

 

 

Yep, it's cold here too. Very cold, but it's nice and toasty at Casa Wags and for the next couple weeks we have four cats and two laps so all the more reason to hole up at home. It's no secret that I'm perfectly content to lean into the dark, quiet January days. This month has been a lesson in patience and acceptance and rumination. I needed them all and now I feel prepared for the next eleven months. 

When I just wrote this, my head was filled with flash forward flickers. All the cliches about time apply. People say them ad nauseam for good reason. It strikes me that each year seems to gain momentum when it feels like I'm losing time. And when...not if...I feel like the world is moving too fast, I'll think of January's short days, long sleeps, more often than not a pot of soup simmering on the stove, Uggs all the time, rekindling my love of a good book, peacefully free of obligations, opting for day dates so we can be home before dark, Netflix nights...mornings too, afternoon cocoa or tea, cat naps as desired, a deck of cards always on the island for a quick game of solitaire or Gin, a renewed focus on self-care and commitment to healthier routines, time and space for deep cleansing breaths and a gentle reminder to be.here.now.

It's the way I try and live my life: in the moment, present, with open eyes and a grateful heart. That doesn't mean I won't live vicariously the next couple weeks as Ted and Meryl travel through India. They arrived is Delhi yesterday and are in Udaipur for the next few days. I've already received photos and a video. They look refreshed and so very happy to be on an adventure.

Our January trip was to Madison to deliver Lils for her last semester of college. The house is especially quiet now with her back at school. I remember senior spring semester as a bit of a blur. It goes so fast. Lily has said that she's ready and excited for what's next, but I know that that one day she will look back longingly on the freedom being a student allows. I'll live by proxy through her exciting milestones too because the most stirring things on my agenda are what kind of soup to make (beef barley today), which wool sweater to pull out of the cedar closet (long fisherman's knit), how to entertain four needy felines and what to read before bed.

 

Noticing Things

Today's vibe is cozy. The wind is whipping outside and the trace of snow that fell overnight is swirling and twirling in the gusts. I could have stayed in bed all day and slept longer despite getting a good night's sleep last night. That was not an option. It was the perfect day to break in my new favorite sweater in my favorite color...green. I'm loving the Cashsoft Gap sweaters this season...I feel like I'm wearing a cloud. Sometimes, like today, a warm, wooly sweater sets the day's tone. I wish it were always this easy.

 

I can feel a draft off my office window. The other day, I had the window open. It was in the 50's. Mother Nature has been fickle this season always keeping us on alert with her extreme juxtapositions. What a waste of energy it would be to complain about the weather though. It's so beyond our control. I'm simply noticing things.

On that note...I read something somewhere recently about what happens to us when we remove our phones, or really social media from the constant mix. It's not just an increased attention span and decreased levels of anxiety. It also buoys our sense of presence, leads to more meaningful connections and periods of boredom. But here's the thing...boredom is good and healthy. Those empty spaces are when we reflect, dream, process, notice things, create and give our complex brains a break they very much need. I know social media isn't going anywhere, and that's why it's up to me to set limits and notice when I need a break. I'm currently not active on any platforms. My guilty pleasure has always been Instagram, but it's not what it used to be. I notice the way the internet makes me a dopamine junkie in a way that is not productive or particularly healthy. Better choices are to do something or to make something tangible. To check in instead of out.

This week is flying by just like last week. There's been a barrage of activity at Casa Wags. Lils is still home and her friend has been staying with us. Grecia is family and a pleasure to host, and she likes to cook so she's been keeping me on my game. The frig is so full of good food that I won't be needed in the kitchen until next week when I'll be back to cooking for just two, but I'm pretty sure I'm having leftover birthday cake for dinner without an ounce of guilt.

Last night I made a loaf of peasant bread and two trays of sheet pan chicken. It was Grecia's birthday and the girls were going out so I wanted to give them a good base. They passed...they weren't hungry, they had other things on their minds, but fresh baking bread, smoky chicken and thyme roasted veg are impossible to resist. One after another they were lured to the kitchen for a nibble, a taste, a plate. Feed them and they will come. It's my stealth and secret weapon.

I know that this is not a celebrated time of year for most people: post-holiday, mid winter, but I'm not plagued by the blahs or the blues. I confess I may even love it. The clear calendar, the slow and steady banality of normal days, the most taxing decision being what soup to make or book to read, and lots of time between pages to look out the window and notice things. 

Lightning Can Strike Twice

Sometimes all we need is popcorn for dinner and a cathartic cry. I bought last minute tickets last night for the movies. On Tuesday, tix are discounted and popcorn is free. It's a no brainer except we've been watching so much television these days and even when the price is right most blockbusters are lackluster these days and my own family room is so damn comfy. Anyway...Mike and Lils were a definitive yes so we went and I'm so glad we did. Song Sung Blue was a little gem of a story that hits very close to home. I have been in Lightning and Thunder's audience on more than one occasion. I smiled and laughed through the first third as did most of the theater, I sang and danced in my seat the second third and I ugly cried through the last third not just because it was heartbreaking, but also because it was beautiful even if not very accurate. The ending was sad, but not hopeless, and I have to admit that I'm glad Marty Supreme was sold out because this love story was more fitting for my craving for emotional depth. Even Lily who really only knows Sweet Caroline thanks to the UW marching band, gave the film rave reviews. Mike too.

Sometimes we watch to tune out. Others to tune in. To feel and remember what it means to be alive. Pathos has it's purpose. It's a good reminder and without it we wouldn't know bathos.

That's enough for me. 

No Reason

 

Today is the kind of day that makes me feel like writing. It's broody and gloomy and just perfect for picking up a pen. I was up early for my annual physical. I've been putting it off as I do every year even though that just causes anxiety. I left feeling relief, a spring in my step and with an order for physical therapy for my problematic knee. It's not something that was on my radar, but at this point it makes perfect sense.

I was up early yesterday too. Two days in and I'm remembering why I like being an early riser. Ted spent Sunday night in his old room after spending the day because Meryl had to go live at 2 a.m. Monday. I got him downtown in time for his first morning call. 

We celebrated Grandma Pat's birthday Sunday. Mike made a huge pot of stick to your bones lasagna stoup and I baked a focaccia round. There were leftovers for all, which is a good thing because we are enjoying some prime soup weather.

It's also my favorite walking weather. Last night I went out after work. It was already dark, but the waxing Super moon and the egg yolk yellow trees cast enough brightness to expose a few deer lurking on the edge of the woods. I was giddy that I could see my breath and that my knee held out for three miles. I'm grateful that it feels good today too.

I was also grateful that I turned in early enough to read a few chapters of a new book, and also that I gave myself permission to abandon the two that have had me stuck, stalled. I waste too much time thinking I have to finish what I start even when it's not working for me. I have my daughter to thank for giving me the nod I needed. She recently decided to reduce screen time for pages. It got me thinking about better uses of my precious time. 

And isn't it the truth that the way we spend our days is the way we spend our lives? It's not so much about accolades and accomplishments as it is about the little things that matter big. Things like showing up every day for the people I love myself included. I take care of myself and then I take better care of them. 

A Few Words That Mean A Lot

I stopped at the store on my home this evening for some essentials: baby food for Gus who we're fattening up after recent sickies, chocolate milk, spinach and eggs. My diet is strange when I'm solo. I'm solo. Mike is at a work event this week and my aunt left yesterday. I cried when I dropped her off. She did too. Not knowing when we'll be together again makes me blue, but a trip to Arizona is in our very near future. We just have to plan it. I drove through the city after parting and one song after another seemed cued up just to keep the flood gates open. I welcomed the tears. Seventeen years ago Sunday was the last time I saw my mom. Last night Jess wanted to know if I had any signs this week. I couldn't say yes. I couldn't say no. I've been too preoccupied with eeking out every minute of family time to receive anything less than a lightning bolt, and that's the way it should be. Here. Now. And it goes without saying that my mom is always on my mind and in my heart.

It helped that after all the togetherness...Ted and Meryl came Sunday in time for the Packer game and food. The choriqueso was ready when they arrived and we ate it all up. They curled up on their couch for the length of the game including overtime. I sent them home with all the leftovers and food I didn't get the chance to cook last week and that made us all happy. Our team didn't win. They tied, but we had fun cheering and arm chair QBing.

Lils and I connected last night. She was in La Crosse for Oktoberfest so she did not get any Loie time. We didn't get any Lily time. Next time. Senior year is off to a happy start. I don't know that she's thinking in lasts. I hope not, but I am. It's the way I'm wired. Lily is living life right now to the fullest and that brings me big huge joy. Contact joy. Yes, I live vicariously once in awhile. As parents, it's our right to bask in their happiness as if it's our own.

Tomorrow is my frister Candace's birthday. She was one of my mom's closest, most true friends. Not long ago she sent me this picture that puts the biggest smile on my face. I'd never seen it. Both of these chicas are such a gift and presence in my life. Happy birthday Candace! Hoping you are surrounded by love and light Mom. You are both guiding lights in my life and with all my heart I love you ladies. 

 

Grateful Friday Rambling

Life has been good and full. That has me flummoxed that September days are waning. And so noticeably shorter. The first day of my favorite season came and went without much thought. I blame it on the warm bonus summer-like days and just being occupied, thus distracted. My front porch is a mish mash of last season's leggy blooms and warty pumpkins I try, but cannot resist. Every morning I pass a row of a dozen maples that are trading in their green for oranges and reds day by day. It's just a block, but the trees that are the furthest north are the first to turn and then it's dominoes. For some reason, I notice and feel the need to document this fall after fall. It's such a poignant symbol of change.

My aunt is here this week and I never anticipated what a blessing the timing of her visit would be. I don't want to say I'm not thinking about my mom...we've been talking about her and reminiscing and that has brought a lightness to the levity that usually defines this week. Seven days between her birthday and her last day...sixty years young. 

We took off the band aid and went to church last Sunday. It's been on my mind after a hiatus much longer than I care to admit or excuse. The strong pull was partially to feel close to my mom on her birthday and also to feel my faith in this time of despair. We have a new priest who is all fire and brimstone. He didn't really venture far from the parable of the day and I was so hoping to get some hope to get me through the here and now. All was good though because the whole fam dam was in the house. Candace too, but she's family as well. I had a cathartic cry after communion, lit a candle for McGurk and hugged all my peeps. It was more nourishing than the brunch we had post mass, but that was good too.

Friday we celebrated my dad's 78th.  Two family meals in one weekend was a gift for all. He always says no presents, but then he's always tickled by the things we feel no pressure to find. No gifts is for the birds. True graciousness is the act of thankful, heartfelt reception. 

Speaking of which, Jess called me last week in the middle of the workday. She never calls during office hours so I answered. She invited me to dinner, but gave me every out. It made me confront the fact that I've declined a lot lately. I'm grateful I said yes. We had a lovely belated birthday dinner on a twinkle-lit patio on a beautiful night. They had to gently suggest we leave because we were lingering. We vowed to do more of this.

I can't remember the last time I went out this much in one week. I've become an unapologetic and very happy homebody. I was planning to host family dinner Wednesday, but my sister-in-law suggested we venture downtown.I surprised myself by how quickly I said yes and never regretted it for a single second because we so enjoyed the city lights from the roof top and then traipsing around the club we used to frequent...The Elephant Room the Bali Room, The ballroom. And without saying...being together. It goes without saying, but there...I said it because we should.

We have a full weekend ahead. Plans are in flux, and that's okay. It doesn't much matter what we do...just that we do do.

wtf?

It's been a strange stretch of days. I didn't see anyone or leave the house for days and that's the way I wanted it. Honestly...the way I needed it. The senseless events of the last week affected me viscerally. Charlie Kirk's murder was an outright attack on our first amendment rights, on Democracy and decency. I was rendered speechless by the brutal slaying. Then the lack of humanity shown by so many in the public eye and trolls hiding behind their screens on social media in the wake of the attack, made me sick to my stomach. This is very dangerous territory we are approaching and I fear for outcomes I cannot breath life to. So I'm mad and sad and scared that we are okay with violence against people with whom we disagree and comfortable with evil when we feel it is warranted. From where I sit, murder is never to be condoned and evil must always be abated.

But truth be told...the world's felt extra weighty for weeks. September so often does. It's already full of landmines so I cannot explain why I decided to go through boxes of mementos...letters, cards, pictures and decades worth of journals. I have decades of journals, but I didn't get through a single year. My teenage girl penmanship takes time to decipher, but it's also emotionally draining to go back...sometimes hilarious and often cringy too! It's such a clear reminder that given the chance, I'd stay right where I am.

Years ago, I decided I would read my journals chronologically. I didn't get very far before rethinking that endeavor. Well, I'm going to try again. Hey, at least I'm reading. In full disclosure...it may take me a year, but I'm committed to read before burning. There will be a fire.

So where am I? What's next? Who are we? How do we move forward? So many questions and very few answers, and that's why I'm hog-tied, tongue-tied and in knots.

Is it Friday Yet?

 

This has been a week. A week that has tested my fortitude, my spirit, my nerve. But if bad things happen in three: hello Covid, untimely appliance purchase and goodbye beautiful, majestic front-yard Maple, good things still have them beat. Good things like a mandate to rest and binge Mobland, perfectly timed July 4th sales, and the tree fell but managed to avoid two houses and three cars. The part that is still standing bears the American flag and tomorrow is our 249th birthday. Also the perfect thing to do in between naps is ten days worth of laundry to break in your new machine so you can send your kids to Chicago and Lake Erie with fresh unders and clean socks. Never you mind that said new machine took the life of Ted's favorite shorts (I believe they were past due as were our thirty year old Maytags). We went with no bells and no whistles Speed Queen models and I will mention, but not complain, that they cost about three times more than their fancier competitors. Less is more. I expect that this will be my last set because I expect they will last and that will be money well spent and also my obligation to be kind to Mother Earth. Planned obsolescence is for the birds.

This may be the last time I do Ted's laundry. He and Meryl moved into their new pad on Tuesday. This was the first move sans rents. I'm not going to lie...that's a damn good thing. I'm old. Mike's older. He moved and set-up his bed and our old kitchen table without our help (save for one phone a dad). They are excited and they are dreaming and scheming as they should be. I'm tickled for them to start this new chapter even as I came clean to my neighbor that I was a little sad too. She gave me the hug I needed. Endings and beginnings baby. They get me.

They came home with both flavors of the day and we had a casual family dinner. Everyone was starving and so tired and some were very sweaty. Sunday I made sauce. Summertime Sunday sauce is its own thing. Think Tzatziki and hummus. Dinner was Chicken Souvlaki and satisfying. The kids wanted to watch family videos with their ice cream for dessert. It was just what my mama heart needed. One ceremonial last supper and adrenaline dose of nostalgia. I wish we'd taken so many more, but I cherish those we have. Wednesday Ted, Meryl and Manny left for July 4th festivities in Lakeside with a specially curated bag of road trip snacks I put together. They'll be back. Maybe next week for a night or two while they sort their place. This will always be home. They are forever welcome.

Lily left Wednesday too for a work trip to Chicago. She visited the office there and went to a Cubs game with her team. I was beyond relieved to know she was back at her hotel when I got the news alert of mass shooting in the city. No words. While she was gone, I washed her bedding (I love my new machine) and bleached her shower. No words. She came home this afternoon and took a nap. She is so my daughter and man I love her.

I don't love that I likely have to forgo 4th of July festivities. I am a patriot and this holiday holds a very special place in my heart. It will be a game-day decision whether or not we make a brief appearance at Windmill Beach. I'm dreaming of a swim. Mike says vitamin D will do us good. Part of me says pony up and part says whoa Nelly. Tomorrow will tell. 

 

Proof of Life

 

I've been sleeping like and with the dead. My dreams have been full of strife, conflict, unrest...demons. Not the evil kind, but those that are self-made and harder to battle. I'm thinking I need to rethink my evening programming choices.

Last night Ted and I got sucked into a animated film about a robot, a goose and a fox. It was nostalgia on high. We didn't miss a Disney or a Pixar film for a decade plus, but before that was news and 1923 so yeah...not very zen.

That being said, when I woke from literal mayhem, I was greeted by the most beautiful morning after yesterday's heat and late night storm. It's a window open kind of day. I'm already looking forward to my evening walk. Whatever was going on with first my right and then my left knee has abated. Just so the rain stays at bay until I'm done. I love a good thunderstorm when I'm home safe and dry.

On the hottest day of the year, we made pasta. I had beautiful fresh peas which are perfect with parmesan, pancetta and pasta. Today's leftovers are hitting the spot with a side of big, fat, roasted asparagus I made for Ted because he has yet to learn the worth of the pea. Lily had ice-cream. It's dairy and summer.

I cannot believe it's already Thursday or mid June for that matter. We are just about half way through 2025. Fleeting time disquiets me. Ironically, the whirlwind silences me. I lose my words and stop thinking in stories. It's pops and buzzes. Flashes. Moments on the move.

Yet today I felt compelled to wear pink, green and pearls, listen to music on my ride to work (Boz Scaggs, The Stones and Paul Simon) and to come here today. Not with anything illuminating to say...more like a proof of life. I'm here. Life is good for the most part. I am happy most of the time. I feel blessed always.

Just the Way I Like It

 

It's June and we're falling into our summer routines, which is to say not much structure at all and that, of course, is par for the course. I sleep in as long as I possibly can because I've yet to abandon my night owl tendencies. Truth is, I concede that I'm an erstwhile early riser. The kids are hybrid employees, but Ted's team doesn't make it in much. He happens to be in the office today and Lily is working from home. I never know until I get up in the morning just who is occupying their bedroom offices. This working from home is getting expensive because my two have become serious coffee drinkers. They love the Nespresso. I just placed a $100 order yesterday that will hopefully get us through the month. I also placed an order for wine. I won't divulge the amount or how long I expect it to last. Oh, and that's for me. I drink my cuppa at work where I happily go M-F.

The evenings are a crap shoot. The kids are busy as they should be. Sometimes dinner is at 8 o'clock, sometimes 9 o'clock...sometimes not at all. I try to keep the fridge stocked and to cook a few meals each week with lots of leftovers. Last night Lily went for a walk with a friend after work before hitting the gym. Ted loaded up his bike and went to train with a friend who is doing an Iron-man soon. They were home after dark and dinner was what they could find.

The driveway is a maze of cars, the mud room is littered with Hokas and Birks and Reefs, there is never enough ice and the sink is usually filled with dishes. I steer clear of their rooms unless I need a blood pressure surge. We had a family meeting about expectations, considerations, chores, but here is where I fail in my parenting. I am a big softie who was raised by one who championed the motto if you want something done right, do it yourself. I'm ignoring the messes because these days are numbered, and I just want to embrace and enjoy this full house feeling.

Ted and Meryl are apartment hunting. Her new job starts mid-July and I think they're hoping to be settled in by then. I've loved having Teddy back home this past year, but I'm excited for the two of them to get their own place and I'm beside myself that they are here instead of NYC or Denver or Cali. Now I'm well aware that they may not stay here forever, but I'll take for now, and so many of Ted's close friends have returned to Milwaukee because it's a rather awesome place to live.

This week flew by after a pretty chill weekend. We went out for a fancy dinner Saturday night with Pete and Sue and spent the rest of the time close to home. All lovely. This weekend will be more of the same. Happy hour with the girls tomorrow and then some planting, some cooking, some reading and writing and fingers crossed lots of walking if my knee feels up to it.

It really is the little things in life that spark the greatest joy. 

 

Lessons

 Some of what I learned on my trip through Spain in no particular order of importance or occurrence.

Siesta is a thing. A good thing. There is something brilliant about scheduling down time every afternoon. We leaned into it. Most places close for a few hours late afternoon. Dinner really is 9 o'clock or later. If you go earlier, you'll be eating alone.

Eat as many olives as you can because they never tasted so good whether briny or buttery or bitter.

 

Don't walk against the crosswalk EVER. You never know when one of these will whiz by.

 

Always take a walking tour of a new city preferably early on in your stay. It is such a great way to get acquainted with a place and usually your guide will have suggestions on what to do and where to eat, and if you're lucky, you'll get a cheeky Brit who is an expert on Madrid's history gossip and all. Lexi's walking tour in Madrid was our favorite.

Make plans and reserves, but be sure to leave time to explore and then also to just be. If we had not done so, we'd never have ended up in the basement of a blues club, and that was a fun night.

 

 

Dine outside when you can. Street seating is excellent for people watching.

Sometimes you can get a table if you walk in even though you cannot get a reserve online especially if you are willing to sit at the bar.

There is no such thing as a bad glass of wine in Spain, or a bad time for one either. Spaniards drink wine, not water.

Or Cava. 

 Forgo fashion. Dress in layers and bring a pair of comfortable walking shoes. You walk everywhere and will wear them 90% of the time.

A cross body bag is a must. I loved the Wander Lust Anti Theft bag. Sunglasses and a travel umbrella too.

 

 

Dress comfortably on planes and trains. It makes it easier to schlep and sleep. I slept on every ride. In fact, I almost slept the entire flight on the way to Spain so long flights no longer scare me.

The fast train is brilliant. We are light years behind Europe in public transportation. It's so easy and affordable.

 

Download a couple movies on a device for travel. Our flight home was without onboard entertainment. Many passengers had to raw dog it. 

We are a baby nation. The sense of history in Europe is captivating. So many countries, monarchies, rulers, sultans have left their marks. I cannot wait to dive in deeper.

There are at least two portraits of The Mona Lisa. One in Spain at the Prado and another at The Louvre. It's questionable whether Da Vinci painted any of them.

They still make espadrilles and I absolutely bought a pair. Leave some room for souvenirs. We ended up buying a carryon suitcase to bring home our purchases. But do not try to bring back jamon Iberico even purchased from the Duty Free store.

Gilipollas means asshole. Don't say it too loudly. Vale means okay.

Location location location. It matters when selecting hotels and apartments. We really lucked out here. Do your research and read reviews. It was fun to do a mix of hotels and an apartment when we were four in Sevilla.

Bidets are amazing. Use them.

Don't bother asking for ice, but you can ask for agua de grifo aka tap water. They must give it to you by law if requested. If you say tap water, they will act like they don't understand you.

The caps smartly stay attached when you open a bottled drink.

The Spaniards love their plazas (pronounced plathas) and so do I. Pigeons too.

 

They also love their dogs. Everyone has one and they are everywhere, but don't pet them. It's considered rude to do so unless you are asked. They are so well-trained that they ignore you. Spanish dogs strongly resemble their owners just like in the states.

 

You aren't supposed to tip in restaurants and bars. At least Spaniards rarely do, but I feel like Americanos are more apt to, and we usually did.

You will have to ask for your check. Don't be offended when the waitstaff ignores you...see above.  

Charge when you can. You get the best exchange rate. We went to the ATM once for more walking around cash. A $300 withdrawal came through our bank account at $390.

The food is so fresh and affordable. The markets are amazing. Spice is not in their culinary repertoire though. We only had two misses on meals, which was remarkable for 10 days of eating out.

 

Eat as much pan con tomate and potatas bravas as you can. They are always different and always delicious.

 

The architecture is beyond: Romanesque and Gothic to Renaissance, Baroque and Modernist, and then there's Antonio Guadi.

You can and will take 1000 pictures even of people you don't know.

 

 

The University of Sevilla was founded in 1505. 

Las Meninas is my new favorite painting. I didn't take a picture of Velasquez's masterpiece because I didn't want to break the rules. The above photo of the Mona Lisa was taken by Lily who broke the rules and btw so many people were, which made me want to refrain from doing so even more. I'm not so much a rule follower as a contration.

From the train you see windmills, fruit trees and windmills as you travel through the countryside. Spain is long on renewables hence the recent power outages.

They do a changing of the guard at the Royal Palace in Madrid. Said palace is an exact replica of Versailles only twice the size because King Felipe V missed his childhood home and was a bit competitive. He was a Bourbon.

The crown is only worn for selfies. It's too heavy to wear every day. Too fancy too.

The royals in Spain are proclamated not consecrated.

My daughter is a beer drinker now. We're on a mission to find Estrella here in the U.S.

I love traveling with Mike and Lils. We make a good trio. I was the event planner, and they shared navigation and concierge tasks. They did a great job of picking a delicious variety of international restaurants when we tired of tapas. Lils was also the translator. Most people speak English. In Barca they speak Catalan and they don't really appreciate touristas practicing their Espanol, since they want to succeed from Spain.

 

 There's not much I would change about this trip. I think we'll find ourselves in Spain again, and definitely in Europe, and with the whole fam.