Thanks to each of you for being a wonderful, cheering influence on me this year. Life is better and sweeter with you in it. I wish you all a beautiful Christmas, hearts full of comfort and joy, and the brightest of hope in all that lies ahead of us. May God bless you in this precious season and always.
• finding higher meaning in a dream about a speeding ticket • while at the grocery store for emergency sickday oranges for Rob, running into three beautiful women—one, then another, then another—who all used to be "my girls" during the years I was a Young Women leader—and getting to observe them in context of being with their significant others • remembering that it's better to love on people than to be shy about scaring them when I look and feel like a zombie but choose to go out into public anyway • knowing that my friend (I'll call her Toots) is far from being a bad mother even though she adamantly claims she is after having kicked a giant hole in her brand-new wall today • love notes from friends • this craft I am determined to make • bringing home far too many library books to read in three weeks, but enjoying just having them around • making plans for my "10 for '10" new year's resolutions (and actually looking forward to making some this year) • ginger-lemon tea • my favorite "new" show on Netflix • choosing poetry (not mine) for a chapbook • 2 percent Lycra • wool tights • making it past the halfway point on my Master Gardener take-home exam • Dad B.'s blood pressure rising to normal once he got to the E.R. • the thought of free source of tubing for a drip irrigation system next spring (not many pros to a loved one doing home dialysis, but here's one) • batteries • new spending patterns • remembering the mortgage • spinach calzones smothered with roasted tomato sauce (made with buffalo) • somebody I love gets to spend time in Oaxaca even if I don't • June Roses Day in 8 days! • Christmas letters and photos • salad for breakfast • this revelation:
Thanks to my beautiful friend Jenny for saying just the right thing on Facebook to remind me of this song. It's one of those I feel I could have written—for Rob. Of course if I'd penned the lines, they'd include no mention of high heels, but the sentiments would all be the same.
Oh me of little faith. I should have trusted them when they said Communal was amazing. But . . . straight up American cuisine? Really? When was that ever divine?
But guess what, kids. It's true. Every word. Amazing. Heavenly. Deelish. Good enough to make me swoon. And the wallpapers in both bathrooms are nice too.
Try Communal. Have a beautiful meal. Go with beautiful friends, like we did. If you don't have any beautiful friends, go and make friends with the beautiful polenta. And the steak. And the squash with apples. And the brussels sprouts with almonds. And the wallpaper. And the art on the walls. And the big windows. And the service. And. And. And. And. Go. No money? Well, start washing cars, have a bake sale, mow some lawns. Do whatever you must to gather the funds to indulge yourself in some anti-recession joy. Sell your house. Really.
I for one am going to take up oil painting so I can trade canvases for eats. I've never been so motivated in my life. Move over, Brian Kershisnik—an artist is born.
