That I can’t sleep, even though I should.
The hum scrub scrub of the dishwasher is like the house purring, and the cat has curled up next to me with a sigh, to sleep. D. turned out her lights awhile back.
It’s been a good evening. While A. was commuting down from work to stay over tonight, I was rummaging around the garage and basement for parts to make a water bottle rocket launcher. I printed out the NASA (kid you not) instructions and found them unexpectedly detailed and technical. I needed a certain kind of valve from a bicycle tire tube, so I drove over to the local bike shop. The two guys behind the counter were amused and interested by the plans so they poked around and found things on this counter and that and gave me valves to try out. So nice. Another reason I love my neighborhood.
Back at home, I got to cook out, making a marinade for the chicken I grilled on skewers. A. arrived and got comfy so I went out to the backyard. A. can make her grandmother laugh like no one I know, and she hung out in D.’s room putting on a pain patch for her and then reminiscing about their school days at SF City College, a couple decades apart but some of the same teachers. I enjoyed the backyard being relatively tamed after my hard labor this weekend. (see wild iris)
I finally got an idea for A.’s birthday present and tried it out on her. She’s formerly a chef, now managing palliative care at a Kaiser. The week after she gets back from her birthday trip to NoLA, I will “cater” her dinners for coming home from work. Meaning, like Blue Ribbon, I’ll have all the ingredients for each prepped and packed up so she can just make it. Good stuff, like what we call girl food, so that she can come home without having to think about shopping and use her new grill, or just heat up her choice. I gave her my first draft and a red pen and she edited it, which was super helpful input. I’d thought to do a menu and have her pre-order, but didn’t get one made up.
Wild iris bloomed under my window in the backyard:
Dinner was easy going and it was fun to talk. With grilled teriyaki chicken and fresh tomatoes in basil, and a small glass of wine, it started to feel like the weekend.
I continued to chat with A. while I made up the futon in the living room, telling her about my new online course for healthy weight starting Sunday. And thanking her for the nursling advice to D. to get out and take a walk and prioritize what she does now that she feels better. D. goes for chores instead of getting out and walking. Oh, that work ethic is so deeply ingrained.
I said goodnight to A. asking how early she’s getting up to commute to work, uber early like me. I showed her the grilled leftovers in the fridge, one for her lunch and one for mine and she leaned on my shoulder for a hug and stayed. “Hey, are those tears?” I asked and held her again. She had one of those tough management days. It’s good to be a mom.
And when I cleaned up the kitchen and brushed my teeth I fully expected to crash. It was a typically busy day at school today. I should be out by now. Instead, I was lying on pillows in the dark, with a snoring cat, but wide awake.
It seemed that if I could write about how much love I felt then perhaps I could sleep.