Even the most ordinary of days has bright spots to elevate the spirit. I get really excited when the phone rings early on a Saturday morning; it means my daughter has some time to talk and catch up and I'm smiling before the first ring stops. Life down in the valley goes at breakneck speed and time zips by in the blink of an eye. A leisurely mother-daughter chat while we share a cup of coffee is a great way to start the day.
My fit of pique the other day did nothing to resolve the drill issue. I had put the dead battery in the charger before I stomped up the stairs, but neglected to push the on button. For someone who has avoided going downstairs for months on end, I've made more trips up and down in the last week than in the last five years. (Okay, that's an exaggeration, but it makes the point.) I won't say discovering that the battery was not resuscitated was a highlight, but it did raise my hackles. I was reminded of Jack Lemmon's line from "The Great Race" to Peter Falk, "Push the button, Max!" We'll see how successful I was with the charger today, probably during Super Bowl halftime. Or not.
Back in the day, we used to throw big parties on Super Bowl Sundays with lots of competitive partisan yelling and plenty to eat and drink. In the spirit of yesteryear, I decided I would make pizza today for myself. I've never created a homemade pizza. Checking online for a dough recipe, I particularly liked the advice of one cook who said it was not wise to overload with toppings because the crust would be doughy "...and you will be sad." Not wishing to be sad, I will be judicious when I put on salami, pepperoni, olives, onions, red pepper flakes, and mushrooms, with the obligatory mozzarella and Parmesan. There was a tub of my own marinara sauce in the freezer, thawing as we speak.
I'm getting an inkling of the lives of Chang and Eng, famed Siamese twins of the 1800s. I am rarely to never alone anymore. In the living room, Bessie Anne and Celeste, and occasionally Ralph pile onto my lap, legs, and chest. Here at the computer, Ralph and Bess are behind me on the bed. Bessie knows there is no room for her as I sit at the desk, but Celeste squeezes onto what lap is available and lies with her head across my arm. This makes for some interesting typos as I can't quite reach all the keys. I only hope to catch all the errors before hitting "publish" and ask indulgence for those I miss.