Put some cookies in the oven.
Wait 11 minutes. (Just enough time to get started doing something productive and then...)
Pull them out.
Let them cool.
Throw more in.
Take some out.
Multiply by 10 and you get the picture.
Ohhh, they drive me nuts! But they are dearly loved by my handsome husband. Did I mention he'll be arriving in, oh, 9 hours?! And so, I bake cookies.
Can I be real here? 'Course I can, this is my blog. So, if I'm excited, you hear about it. If I'm grumpy, you hear about it. You don't like it? Don't read it. I'm sorry, that's just how it works.
My apologies in advance cuz today I'm gon let it out.
I'm tired of the cornfields. The monotony of riding on paved, straight, flat, gridded roads. I want to jump in my car with a way too hastily packed suitcase, leaving behind underwear and toothbrush and socks and drive, just drive. Drive fourteen hours straight through. Til I hit the mountains. Back to the place from which I came. I want to stand outside where the wind is near nonexistent. I want to spin gravel on curvy, dirt roads. Feel mud splatter my back as I fly through the fields on a four-wheeler, hitting every mud hole there is and drowning in the smell of gasoline. I want to hold my chickens. And smell the earthy scent of kitty fur. I want to put Carhartts and muck boots on and sit in the dog pen with George, the leaning dog and pet him until my hands are black with dirt. I want to see my mom and her shining bright eyes. I want to hug my grandma and hear her say a million times, "Well, I don't really know anything." And I want to watch her roll her eyes and say, "Shut up Homer! Nobody thinks that's funny" when my grandaddy spouts out fake foreign language or says he just wants another 'poonful or that he can't eat that because it "gets in his mouth too much." I want to have lunch and drink coffee in upscale little places with Mother Teresa, just for the experience. (Or Thelma, whichever one you remember her as.) I want to sit in her country kitchen while she talks about how tiny her farmhouse is. I want to sit around the table, shoulder to shoulder with my brother and the Morgans as we drink coffee until the wee hours of the morning. I want to take a peach pie from Yoder's to Granny June and Paw Paw Ralph. To make sure they're happy, havin' their home to themselves once again. I want to make dinner at Flisa's house while she complains that she can do it! To enjoy a glass of wine (or two) and embrace Lilith when she tries to make me feel uncomfortable by hugging me long and hard because she knows I like my space. I want to play with their goats and see their tiny banty chicks. I want to go camping while I listen to Flisa fuss about how she and Fredrico are too old to sleep on an air mattress and everything else under the sun. I want to groan about how I hate the smell of campfire in my hair yet I'll move in closer to stay toasty warm. Then, I'll wake up only to feel dirty and gross from the dew and stinky from the campfire. Knowing full and well that no matter how much I fuss, it really is grand. I want to ride horses down the mountain from the camp to the truck. I want to head over to Watermelon Park and camp for a few nights while we tube down the river, moving as slow turtles on a hundred degree day. I want to waltz over to my friend, Martha's and have lunch. I know she'll make something super exciting and special. Better yet, maybe we should meet at El Agave's! No cooking required! It's one of our favorites! I want to spend the evening at the Myers' farm soaking up the wealth of good company amongst the AWANA group and make s'mores. I want to pop in and sit for a long, uplifting evening with the Vineyard Keepers. To linger in one of Miss D's sweet, long embraces. To attend church and spend all afternoon catchin' up in the foyer until they begin to lock up. I want to meet up with all the soccer girls at Giovanna's and watch the people sitting near us talk and give dirty looks because we're enjoying ourselves way too much and the noise level has risen to that in which you would find in a stadium.
There are just too many "I wants" to list. Law, we'd be here til tomorrow. Yep, I'd give just 'bout anything to be in the big V-A. I'm painfully aware of how needed a retreat, a reprieve, a getaway is. Something to refresh this east coast girl dukin' it out in the Midwest. There's just no place like home and it feels like it's been way too long since I've been back.
Welp, cookies are all done. So, it's on to the next thing.
Wait, one more thing. Completely switchin' subjects on ya....I am totally growing this short mop out. I'm sick of it and I miss my long hair. And I want to wear baseball caps during the summer. Just sayin.
I was going through photos and found that Mother Teresa ever so kindly took photos of me while I was folding clothes last time she was here. She's so kind, isn't she? Love her.
Oh, my dear Mary K. Tears in my eyes, now have to stop that before someone comes by this front desk. That one draw back of being at the front desk, you are on display, everyone knows and sees what you are doing. So, is there a possiblity of coming home during Spring break? Wish I could send you some El Agave's food, might not be too good when it arrived. Maybe a napkin with a scent on it, but that would make it worse. We are planning to get back to our Vineyard Keepers on the March 19. Haven't met since December. Debbie's had a full plate with in-laws and several other family things. Please take these e-mail hugs and wrap them around you. Love you girl!!!
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