Working For The Weekend

I love weekend mornings. Ron is home, so coffee is made and breakfast is an event. The house is quiet other than the cat meowing his head off. It is peaceful and cozy, and my reward for having shuffled two children around every Saturday for 23 years. There is a lot to be said for having kids early…I am young enough to enjoy their absence from my house for a few years before grandbabies start coming along.

This morning, Oreo started in with his howling as soon as we sat down with our cups of caffeinated beverage. He has this thing about not wanting to eat the food that is in his bowl. Instead, he meows until Ron comes in and either squishes the chicken with his finger or hand feeds Oreo a piece at a time. Today, Oreo was having none of it. He didn’t want his chicken even after Ron squished it. When Ron went back into the office, Oreo stomped around with the Grumpy Cat face and his ears back, pissed off at the world. He climbed behind my chair where I have a bag of candles from IKEA that are still wrapped in brown paper and started shredding the paper and eating it. I turned around to make him stop and he swallowed a piece while giving me his “fuck you” face. Finally, Ron opened a can of tuna which King Oreo decided was worthy of his palate.

Although I normally do laundry on Fridays, I slacked off yesterday. I started a load first thing. Even though the basket was overflowing, it was still only two loads, which is incredibly awesome. It’s amazing how much laundry kids can generate. Even though both of mine did their own laundry starting at age 8 (Matt) and 10 (Aubrey), I still washed towels, sheets, table linens, sofa slipcovers, etc., which was several loads anyway. Now it’s four loads tops, including my sheets and everyone’s towels. Awesomeness!

Yesterday, a friend sent me a picture of a dress with a crocheted top and said we should collaborate. He’s an excellent seamster and makes some really cool pieced dresses for sale on etsy and music festivals. While Ron made the coffee, I went through my stash and dug up all my cotton yarn. I also found several skeins of a bamboo yarn that feels and drapes like silk, though it is much, much less expensive. It was exactly what I need for my next knitted shawl, as soon as I finish the current shawl nightmare. I knitted and crocheted swatches while I drank my coffee, making this a perfect morning.

Matt is feeling pretty good, and his meds are making him tired, which is exactly what they are supposed to do, so that is good news. He has a MUGA scan scheduled for this Wednesday to see if or how much his ejection fraction has improved after being on the meds for a few weeks. When I talked to him last night, he complained of being bored to death, especially after I said he couldn’t come with us to the Fort Sam Fiesta fireworks tomorrow because it would be too much walking. I posted a request for PS3 games on my fb page and one of my geeky guy friends is sending him some. I offered to teach him how to knit but he declined.

The Fort Sam Fiesta fireworks is one of my favorite Fiesta events. They are usually timed to explode with the 1812 Overture blasting on giant speakers. Since my birthday is the 25th and I was born on a Friday, which is when the Battle of Flowers Parade is held, Fiesta has always been like one giant birthday party for me. I remember one year when Matt was five and Aub was just a few months old, Duane was being an ass as usual, so my birthday was a miserable day. We were living in the top of a duplex and our back stairs looked out towards Fort Sam, which was about two miles away. I was in the kitchen when I heard the popping noise, so I opened the door and there were the fireworks, clear as day. Matt and I sat on the back stairs and watched until the last one dissipated. It’s one of my best birthday memories.

Another of my best birthday memories was my senior year in high school, when my birthday fell on a Friday, the same day as the parade (only rarely does that happen). My mom got us tickets to sit in the bleachers under the highway, and took an ice chest filled with Bartles and James wine coolers. I’d had several by the time the parade started, so I was having a really good time. The parade had come to a halt due to some horse disaster further up, just as the Army band float was going by. After they were stopped for a minute or so, they started playing “Twist and Shout”. It was like the scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off; people came streaming down off the bleachers into the street (me included) and started dancing and singing. The float was there long enough to play the entire song before the parade started up again.

This year, my birthday falls on a Friday once again, but going to the parade or NIOSA is too hellishly hot for me to enjoy it. Instead, Ron is taking me to Texas de Brazil so I can watch Aubrey fly. It’s been over a year since I last saw her, and she does some seriously insane stuff now. Dinner at TdeB is an easy way for Ron to be off the hook for a present, although I would never turn up my nose to a gift certificate to Knit Picks.

Now that Matt has an abundance of time on his hands, I’m hoping he’ll go back to writing music. I suggested that he come up with a full album’s worth of songs, then he can sell them to help pay his medical expenses. Artists are always their worst critics, and as is typical, he doesn’t believe his stuff is good enough. I recently listened to a bunch of stuff composed by a grad from Berklee, and Matt’s stuff is way better. I think it takes a certain level of arrogance to be successful in the music business, and both of my kids are extremely humble about their talent. It’s frustrating.

I guess it is time to start my day for real after two cups of coffee and goofing off for a couple of hours. I’m hoping to get my king sized bed assembled today, and my queen sized bed broken down. I’ve spent an enormous amount of time looking at king sized duvet covers, comforters, and quilts, but I still haven’t found anything that I like in my price range. Champagne taste, beer budget, as they say. There’s a lot of cleaning to be done, too. I never said anything about loving weekend afternoons!!


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