Dining With The Beans

I stopped at the grocery late yesterday afternoon to pick up a fast dinner for Zen-Den and me.  I knew that we had the makings for a tossed salad at home, as well as some fresh blackberries, so I only had four items in my basket.

  • a rotisserie chicken, bbq
  • a loaf of bread, California sourdough
  • a bottle of white wine, Argentinian Torrontes
  • a package of Klondike bars, original

It wasn’t busy in the store so I went through the regular checkout line.  The guy that was running the cash register was indifferent to what he was ringing up, but the girl who was bagging my groceries was paying close attention to what I was buying.  And even went so far as to offer her opinion:  “Wow!  This is– like– the best.  dinner.  ever.”

And you know what?  She was right.

Our dinner.  Ally selected.  Bagger approved.  😉

Making Myself Useful

People think of me at the strangest times.

I received an email from a former boss of mine who I haven’t heard from in five years– haven’t worked for in about two decades.  Not to be cynical, but I figured there was a reason that she thought of me all of a sudden and sent me this email. And I was right.

The first part of her message told me what she and her husband had done. Retired now.  Moved to another state.  Built a house on 10+ acres.  Raising farm animals.

Then she explained that she had written to ask me about events that happened in a bar near where we worked– twenty years ago— when Bailey’s Irish Cream was a new and exotic drink to us. Specifically, she wanted to know if I remembered the names of any of the drinks with Bailey’s Irish Cream in them that we used to enjoy.

I could only think of two drinks, a Nutty Irishman [Bailey’s and Frangelico] and a B-52 [Bailey’s, Grand Marnier, and Kahlua], but I emailed to her what I could remember.  I figured she was hosting some shindig and wanted to have some special drinks.

But I could not have been farther from the truth, as I learned when former boss emailed back and finally told me what she was really up to.

One of her alpacas, named Bailey, had just given birth. And former boss thought that it’d be fun to name her newest little girl alpaca, the daughter of Bailey, after one of those drinks we enjoyed years ago. But former boss couldn’t think of the names of any of them, so naturally she thought of me.

Well, of course. Makes perfect sense.

At first I was a bit miffed about why former boss had contacted me.  But as I got thinking about it I decided that I liked my newfound title of She Who Names Alpacas.  It had a certain ring to it.

So I sent former boss an email suggesting that “Bea,” a shortened form of B-52, would be a good name for an alpaca.  I liked it because I figured that if I was an alpaca I’d want a respectable name– not something silly like Nutty.  Me, a suburbanite, being so knowledgeable about alpacas and all….

Former boss emailed back, said that she liked the name, and promised to send photos of Bea, just as soon as she got around to taking them. Which in my estimation will be about the time Bea becomes a mother herself and former boss, needing yet another “Bailey” name, thinks of me again.

Here Comes The Sun

Let’s review.

First, I sat at this desk, working on this computer, complaining about rain to the whole world via this blog.  And I was grumpy.

Then something amazing happened.  We had a rainbow.  Not just any rainbow, but the biggest and brightest one I’ve ever seen in this part of the USA.  A rainbow of such significance that Z-D phoned me on his way home from work to make sure that I was seeing this rainbow.  And I was stunned.

Then yesterday, because the sun was shining, I was able to plant colorful flowers and pretty viney things in the many garden pots that decorate the exterior of our home.  Pots that I really love to look at when I’m driving up the driveway or walking up the sidewalk.  And I was very happy.

[I’m calling this particular pot, and its sister pot on the other side of the stoop, “Snack Time At Vacation Bible School” because it has chocolate drop coleus + coralberry punch superbells in it.  How fun is that?]

So even though the weather forecast for today is rain, I’m still in a good mood.  Creating the flower pots yesterday brightened my spirits.  And reminded me that when the nice weather gets here, I must make the effort to enjoy every minute of it.

TGIF, everyone.  Make it a good weekend.  Rainy or sunny.

It Is Still Raining Here

“April is the cruelest month.”  ~ T. S. Eliot, “The Wasteland”

I’m sick of the rain.  We’ve had wet weather here almost every day since mid-March.  In fact, in April we had 3x our normal rainfall, making this past April the second wettest on record.

[Oh joy.]

  • At this point, I can’t stand looking at the rain:  boring raindrops descending from gray skies that never go away.
  • I can’t stand hearing the sound of the rain pounding on the roof all night: *plop, plop… plop… splat* over and over again.
  • I can’t stand driving the car in the rain: *swish, swish* {sound of windshield wipers} *splash. splash. splash* {driving through a puddle}
  • I can’t stand walking in the rain: wet feet, muddy shoes/ cold ankles, soggy pants bottoms.

I’ve been a trooper about this lousy weather.  Really, I have.  I’ve looked on the bright side and been understanding about the fickle nature of spring.

[Spring: the passive-aggressive season.]

  • Yes, yes– I know that we had a drought last summer/autumn and that this rainfall is wonderful for the trees and grass.
  • Yes, yes– I get it that the early farm crops are thriving and this pleases some farmers.
  • Yes, yes– I’m delighted that because of the plethora of worms available, the birds are so healthy and happy this spring.  Bully for them.

But the reality is that after a very long winter I’ve endured almost two extra months of cabin fever, unable to go for long walks– or to putter in the garden– or to enjoy cook-outs on the deck.  I’ve been cooperative.  I’ve put up with this weather nonsense without much complaint.

And what have I got for all my goodness?  More fricking rain.  Predicted through the weekend.  Maybe into next week.

[And my life remains on hold.]

Oh. No. Not. This.

I was shopping for some clothes for me.  I found a few things to try on so I stepped into a dressing room.  At first my focus was on the clothes, but gradually it shifted and I realized that playing loudly from a speaker right above my head was a cutesy, wordy song that I’d never heard before.

So I stopped what I was doing and had a listen.  Big mistake.  Now I have an ear worm… and this is what I’m hearing.

[You’ve been warned.  Click on the link at your own peril.]

I Have A Crush

I was at the supermarket checking out at one of the four U-Scan areas.  I swiped a six-pack of beer across the scanner and it registered the price.  The scanner screen then stopped, waiting for the employee watching over the U-Scans to bypass the need for me to show ID.

But the employee, a kid around 20, didn’t hit the bypass button.

He shouted over to me to show him some proof that I was old enough to buy beer.  At first, I thought that he was talking to someone else behind me who was checking out.

But he wasn’t.

Then I figured that he was joking around with me.  After all, I’m closer to Medicare than the magical age of 21.

But he wasn’t goofing with me.  He was serious.

In fact, by then he’d walked over to me and was standing right in front of me, demanding ID.  So I yanked my wallet from my purse– which caused my lipstick to go flying onto the bagging area of the U-Scan– and started to show my driver’s license to the guy.

But something about the amazed look on my face + the close-up of my wrinkled skin/graying blonde hair must have startled this guy because his demand for my ID suddenly turned into a quiet little question: “Ma’am, are you old enough to buy alcohol?” 

To which I answered a simple little:  “yes.”

And with that, the employee guy picked up my lipstick and handed it to me.  Then he walked back to his U-Scan post where he hit the button that allowed me to buy beer.

I finished scanning my items without incident and put them in my bags.  Then I left the supermarket with a big smile on my face– and a crush on this kid who takes his job very seriously.

God bless him and his bad eyesight.

[WordPress automatically generates suggested tags for each post.  The three it suggested for this post are:  Beer – Medicare – God.  A glimpse into my future, perhaps?!]

Zen And The Art Of Blog Maintenance

~ Like a busy little bee I’ve been tweaking the spectacled bean these last few weeks. After three months of blogging I’ve made some decisions about what I’m going to write about and how I’m going to do it.  And why, of course.

~ I’ve deleted some posts and categories.  I decided that I will write what I want to write about, when I want to write about it– and not at the command of others. Seems obvious, I know, but perhaps I’m just a slow learner when it comes to putting a blog together.

~ I’ve added some tags and reworded some of my category names.  Now they more accurately reflect what I want to share with the world.  Not really very important to you, gentle readers, but this makes a big difference to me.  Keeps me focused.

~ I created a FB fan page for this blog.  I don’t know what I’m going to do with it. Maybe nothing.  But I figured that since one of my rules in life is to “maximize my options,” I’d better do that by creating a free, easy-to-set-up FB page.  [Link in the sidebar to the right.  No obligation to be a fan, btw.]  [Please note: FB fan page deleted 08.11.  No point to it.]

~ When I started this blog I thought that I’d try to have some sort of posting schedule.  I know that it’s easier for my readers when I’m consistent.  But here’s the thing: I didn’t always have something to say on the days of the week that I scheduled myself to post on.  So I’m going to allow myself to be random.  I figure that having something to say every once in a while is more important than saying nothing on a timely schedule.

~ I want to have more photos in this blog.  I’m in the process of organizing our digital photos;  eventually I hope to use many of them in this blog. Plus, I need to start taking more photos.  But right now I feel so overwhelmed by the afore-mentioned mess of photos, that I’m reluctant to take more photos– which will just add to the mess.

~ I’ve been thinking about what I want to do with this blog.  And if I’m honest, I have to say: nothing.  It seems like I should have loftier, more commercial goals for this sweet little bloggy.  Maybe someday I will.  But at the moment the spectacled bean is a hobby that keeps my brain alive, my heart engaged, and allows me to stay in touch with those who care about me and Zen-Den.  And that’s enough for me.