1. It’s cold today. It’s cold this week. The husband called me this morning during his morning commute to inform me that the temperature is not to rise above the fifty degree mark until sometime this Thursday. It might be past time to hang the insulated drapes.
2. While I don’t particularly like very cold weather, or even winter for that matter, there’s something calming about going for a walk with the family on a cold evening–especially when it’s done in a place you don’t visit often. The last time the husband and I were at Old Santee Canal Park was fourteen and a half years ago–July 2, 1996. A lifetime ago. It was hot that day.
3. Both of my children refused to eat Velveeta Shells & Cheese last night. I didn’t feel up to cooking my usual macaroni and cheese. I wanted dinner to be done in fifteen minutes, so I did the unthinkable–only I didn’t realize this was the unthinkable. I bought mac’ ‘n cheese in a—gasp—box.
Boy pretended to have a stomachache. The little girl put a shell in her mouth, made a face, and spit it out onto her tray. Then, to add insult to injury, she grabbed a handful, hollered out “Daw-awg,” and hurled the unnaturally orange noodles to the floor. These events provided endless amounts of happiness for Grayson, the beagle-lab who is spending her not-so-golden years with us.
I sat at the table watching events unfold, hearing my husband’s voice echo in my head– “You really think they’re going to eat that?”
Spoiled by real macaroni and cheese. Does that ruin them for life?
4. Ruined or not, cold or not, the night we went to Santee Canal Park, boy performed in one of his three in three days Christmas concerts. I wish I’d taken pictures…even if they’d been blurry, but I didn’t. I didn’t. I regret that.
He–along with his fellow chorus members, will sing on the radio today at five pm. I need to send my husband with the camera, just in case he can take pictures.
I wish we still had the ability to record music from the radio. I think that’s how I know I’m getting old. In the days of MP3s, I’m sitting here longing for a good old cassette tape.
5. I have about nine servings of Velveeta Shells and Cheese sitting in a zip-top bag in my refrigerator right now. Truth…it doesn’t taste as good to me now as it did when I was growing up. My son tells me often, “Mom, people’s taste buds change.” Of course, this is his reasoning for suddenly disliking a good grilled cheese sandwich, where he doesn’t like melted cheese–despite the fact that he scarfs down the likes of macaroni and cheese and ooey-gooey double cheese pizzas. Maybe that means he isn’t a good source for all things culinary.
In any event, my fingers are cold. It’s forty-one degrees right now with a wind chill of thirty five, ya know.