My newish neighbor is apparently someone who bakes for every occasion as well as no occasion at all. I have yet to encounter her and not her about what is is baking, planning to bake of has just finished baking. Baking is this woman’s life journey, at least during this stage of it.
She is a lovely soul and frequent tell brings over her deligtful bakes as well her companionship. It’s truly delightful and I must admit to being in awe and amazement at the delights she shares. Especially as so many of them ar items I have never encountered before. Some are ethnic delights and other are the most exquisite experiments.
Today Beloved opened the door to be greeted by our neighbor holding out a tray of tempting tasty items. And purple smears on her face and forearms. Naturally he invited her in and took the tray from her while I got the coffee marker sorted out. As they made their way to the kitchen, where espressos were espressoing and milk was frothing, I heard her tell him that everything was made from a creative place today. That is her way of saying she was experimenting and so there is no exact recipe to share.
When everything was reading, we took it all,out to the garden and let the four-footed one join us. She loves to visit, but surprisingly she isn’t interested in the food. Probably because there are tasty ants to lick up. I commented on my neighbor’s new dye job and she explained that is was from the mix of berries she was using. The blueberries, black raspberries and such all stained her skin. She had tried to scrub the juice off once she got her baking in the heated oven, but it had already stained her skin.
She said that it never fails, when she’s busy working with items that will stain your clothes and skin, she brushes a dirty hand across her face or such, and no amount of hand washing she does while baking removes the stain. She calls it a badge of baking, a sign of her dye-ing to bake!
The storms rolled in during the wee hours of the morning. The time when most people are peacefully resting. Or, the time that the four-footed one likes to get up and get her day started. She is a firm believer in the early bird theory. Although I freely admit I am glad that she is not into worms!
So we were awake when the storm decided to build to an amazing crescendo. We weren’t fussed by it either, we were drying off from the intense rain which had saturated us for the few minutes we were out. Hence the need to dry off. Not that the four-footed one was complaining. For her that means being wrapped up in a towel, rubbed and snuggled. All things she likes to have done after she has been soaked.
She wasn’t fussed by the flashing of the lightening either. She was content. Until a startled Beloved joined us. You see the crescendo woke him up. He had been sleeping on the side of the bed when it jolted him. The fall onto the floor ensured he was wide awake and not interested in worms of any sort.
He was, however, in need of a bit of a cuddle with the four-footed one while I made him tea. Yes friends, it was that bad. He let me make his tea for him. Almost unheard of unless he is very ill or very exhausted. He claimed, later, that it was shock that allowed him to let me make his tea.
So the three of us sat there watching and marveling at the raw beauty and power of the storm that lasted for hours. We didn’t worry about losing electricity or anything. We just watched it in awe and wonder. And decided that the rest of the day would be a do whatever we wanted type of day. Which frankly can be the best types of days. Especially when the storm decided to hang around the rest of the day in a weakened state.
Sometimes you just get on a good streak and life is good. Sometimes it’s a challenge to find that streak. And sometimes you can make your own streak. And then there is my neighbor. He has a whole other link into the art of the streak.
He believes you can manifest a streak by running. Running hard and fast because it’s the energy of a movement that will invite the streak. Running and chanting does even more to entice the streak to you. And for the ultimate way to ensure a streak comes to you, take off your clothes before you go running and chanting.
If you get all your clothes off and go running up the front street, being careful about cars, you are guaranteed a good streak. Or at least someone chasing after you. And that person chasing after you should be a parent. Well, not just any parent but your own. And they should have your clothes or at least a towel with them as they chase you. This will make you run faster as you help your parent burn off energy by running away from him or her.
Oh, yes. In case I forgot to mention, my neighbor is a mature 3. I’m not sure how it will work for an adult. But so far he has gotten cookies, toys and hugs. According to his dad this whole streak thing is born out of jealousy towards his younger sister. Either way, I’d say the kid has found a way to ensure a lucky streak happens for him when he wants a cookie or a toy!
As a disclaimer, I am not endorsing the action of taking off your clothes and running down the street naked. Nor am I responsible for any actions that may result in you streaking.
Some people struggle to show affection. Hugs are awkward or painful. A simple touch can become the most strange series of movements for some people. Other people have no problem showing affection. In fact there are some people who frankly are a bit too free with showing off their affection.
The four-footed one is rather comfortable with showing her affection. Tail wags, excited dances, wiggling body, jumping and standing on two legs are all part of the deal. We are working on the jumping up on people because, well, jumping up on people is rude.
If she really likes you, if she has great affection for you, you will bear the marks of her affection. She loves to give kisses. Especially on your light colored clothing, glasses and hair. But she also likes to “hug” you by trying to wrap her legs around your arm or neck, depending upon what’s closest to her. And this brings a whole new set of marks. Because you see, she scratches. Not on perhaps. But unlike a cat she is unable to retract her claws. So you end up with scratches.
Some of these scratches are deep and painful. Others are like nothing. So we are working on that as well. Because not everyone wants to be scratched, even if it is in the name of affection. Beloved will tell you that the worst is when she’s given you a hug which has left deep scratches that she decides to kiss better.
A watermelon made its way, undetected I may add, into the house today. I know, you have images of a nice watermelon just casually strolling into the house. It didn’t happen exactly like that, but close. Oh and it wasn’t totally undetected either.
Beloved went to the market today all on his own. Because he is a bold man and does things like that. Not because he has to do it, but rather he enjoys market shopping. Me, I don’t enjoy it as much, but I do it on account of is weird habit I have called eating. Anyway Beloved bought the watermelon and brought it home. The four-footed one was resting after a few hours of digging for toys, so she didn’t know her favorite fruit was in the house. I knew it was in the house because he asked me where to put it so her extra amazing nose wouldn’t find it.
We managed to keep it hidden until it was time to cut in and eat it. The minute the knife went into the fruit, the sleeping princess was awake, as if she had been kissed with a magical kiss. And like any good story, she was looking for her happily ever after, only in the way of ever after happening immediately. Oh and rather her not sharing it with anyone else.
She had to settle with not getting the whole thing for herself. But she got some. Giving her too much would have been a bad thing, sure it would have had health effects, up what would we be able to bargain with if we gave it all to her at once? See there is a method to the sneaking of said item into the house.
Some days you just need a hug. Maybe even more than one hug. And if you are blessed with someone in your life who can give you a hug on demand, you are blessed beyond words.
I am not blessed with someone who can always give me hugs on demand, I mean the four-footed one has adventures to go and insects to sample. She has puddles to splash in and grass to roll on. In other words, she just isn’t always available to give me a hug. Then there is that whole idea of wanting to give me a hug. She doesn’t always want to give me a hug.
Sure there is Beloved, when he isn’t tied up wth work or travel or such. And again there is that whole wanting to hug etc. But Beloved has a different way to supply me with hug. You see he thinks warm drinks and soups are the answer thugs when the person isn’t able to give you a physical hug.
So Beloved made soup today. He made potato soup and vegetable soup. He made chicken noodle soup and dumplings. I mean he just went crazy with soup. And he made tea, bcause naturally tea is a hug as well. For me, he chilled the tea, but for him he had it hot. The soup, well most of that will be frozen until I, or he,mis in need of a hug. Or are too lazy to cook.
Beloved had decided to take the four-footed one for a walk with a picnic at the end before returning home. I had planned on staying home and doing a whole pile of nothing. Well not because I was lazy, although there is nothing wrong with a full day of nothing either, but because lupus was happily active and stealing my energy and health.
The four-footed one went happily enough with Beloved for the walk, but she was dead set against the picnic. Beloved wasn’t sure if it was because the four-footed one has a love-hate relationship with ants or if it was bcause he failed to back a nice blanket for them. At any rate she wasn’t having a thing to do with the picnic. She was so against it that she was not even interested in food. So they ended up just coming back.
The four-footed one decided that she did want a picnic, just not outside. Instead she vocally advocated to have the picnic in the house. On our bed which I happened to be resting on. The fact I wasn’t interested in crumbs on my bed was irrelevant to her. She was hungry and had been promised a picnic. So she pulled out her puppy dog eyes to use on Beloved and I and she leaned against me as if to say “please let me have my picnic”.
Beloved gave in and picnic on the bed commenced. And after picnic? She was already on the bed so stretching out for a nap, was as easy as just stretching out. No need to find a comfortable spot because she already found it.
The four-footed one loves to have her picture taken. Just tell her you want to take her picture and she will look up, all sweet and innocent, even if the moment before she was being a little devil. I’m not really sure if she understands having her picture taken, but she seems to. And she doesn’t seem to mind either.
I’ve never been a large fan of having my picture taken. After I started tea tempt for luous it got even worse. I mean it’s hard to want your picture taken when you feel awful. It’s hard to be cheerful or smile when all you can think about is the brilliant red rash across your cheeks. And please don’t ask me to smile of be anywhere near having my picture taken when I have had prednisone.
Prednisone makes me look and feel unpretty, and hungry. And it’s impossible to feel beautiful, or even okay looking when you have gained a lot of weight and have a huge, round face. It’s just so hard sometimes.
But sometimes you can’t choose the treatment that works with lupus.. Sometimes you have to settle for being so hungry you could and would eat everything in sight. Sometimes you have to settle for a round face, weight gain and feeling unpretty just to save your organs.
But you can choose to realize that what is staring at you when you look in e mirror is still a beautiful person. The vision in the mirror is just distorted. And it’s okay because you have bigger things to focus on, such as your health and how incredible you are. So let the distorted visit be in the mirror because it will disappear soon enough. But your amazingness will stay and sometimes pictures don’t show it well enough.
Have you ever spent time planning what you were going to have when you knew you’d be going to a restaurant? We had made plans to go to a lace a week ago. I checked the menus and pictures of the food. I read reviews and took my time really reading the menu. I had ideas of what I would eat.
And when we got to the restaurant, I was feeling confident. I knew what I was having. Except the menu they gave us was not at all like the one online. All my planning was for not. So I was still left with that feeling of not being sure exactly eat I would have. No pictures, no reviews. Just go wth your gut and hope it’s all good.
The food was wonderful and to be honest I’m glad the menu was different. I know that sounds silly , but by the time I was going to order based on what I made up my mind to have before, I was kind of blasé about it. This was such a delightful surprise.
Not that I’m always thrilled with these types of surprises. I mean there are times that I’ve really wanted something and planned for it only to be told it wasn’t available. It’s a bit crushing to be honest. I know, we are talking about food, but sometimes you can taste it long before you get it. And when it’s suddenly not there when you really want, it’s rather hard to accept.