The other day I read a quote by Kate that went something like this: Make supper first thing in the morning because then, no matter what happens the rest of the day, at least you have supper. 

So yesterday morning, right after breakfast, I washed lettuce, chopped veggies, and boiled eggs for the evening’s chef salad. And it’s a good thing I did, too, because then I invited my daughter-in-law to go on a walk with me and afterward we sat down at the table to eat lunch together (toasted olive bread and cheese, gazpacho, and iced coffees) and ended up talking until after four o’clock! And then my husband and I ran out the door to play Ultimate. Limping into the house afterward, hot and sweaty and bone-weary, I was so thankful for my early-morning thoughtfulness.

Once again this morning, with the same bulls-by-the-horns energy, I made supper right after breakfast. This time: vegetarian groundnut stew.

Supper made, I feel ridiculously smug. I can sit here on the couch, absorbed in my other projects, knowing all the while that no matter what else may come up, a full, nourishing dinner awaits.*

It’s lovely. 

*I still need to cook the brown rice in the turkey broth, and stir the peanut butter into the veggies…

This same time, years previous: yogurt, the water-bath method, hill of the martyrs, in the kitchen, injera and beef wat, a trusty skirt, the quotidian (7.28.14), rest and play, the boy and the bike ride, July evening.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

Espresso + raw sugar + whole milk + ice = my afternoon delight.

I have plans.

Just one of the many variations.

Blueberry-topped.

Blueberry-swirled.

Everyday ice cream: I made it on (to?) the big screen!

Our snuffly four-legged garbage disposals: throwing out food has never been so fun.

Ultimate(ly) wet.

He’s yet to perfect the art of packing light.

Siblings: 5/9ths.

Sisters (in law).

After dinner ramp plans: for the parents.

This same time, years previous: peach pie with bourbon and fresh rosemary, Magpie, Italian meringue buttercream, the best one yet, lemony cream cheese frosting, all practicality, in the kitchen, vegetarian groundnut stew, a riding lesson.

This summer, my younger son took a theater intensive for high school students, hosted by a local university. The participants auditioned a couple months in advance and, prior to starting, they were supposed to have all their lines and music memorized. (I think they each had at least one check-in session via zoom with their acting coaches, too.) Then once the intensive started, they had three weeks of daily, nine-to-five rehearsals, and the course concluded with three performances this weekend. Our family went last night.

My expectations were pretty low, but oh my, what a riot. 

The cast had less than three weeks to mount the whole show, so every little thing felt extra special: live music, mics, dancing, harmonies, a full set, props, gorgeous costuming, speedy transitions, high energy. The kids were clearly having an absolute blast, and their joy and energy overflowed into the audience. There was so much laughter, cheering, and hooting! 

The whole thing was a delight — I’ve always thought of Mamma Mia as a fun, but trite, show, so I was surprised to find parts of it actually meaningful; a couple times I even teared up — and I am beyond impressed with all the hard work that went into the show, and grateful to all the people who made it happen. 

If you’re local and have a free evening, tonight’s the last night to see this rolicking, family-friendly show. Tickets are sold at the door, and the show starts at 7:00.

photo credits: Caleb Schlabach

This same time, years previous: backyard wedding, three shining dragon eggs, apricot pie.