This is what my desk area looks like this morning (a little bit more artfully arranged). Three different ledger books are open; two for work, one for PTA. The constant battle to clear any of my desks is futile; paperwork favors entropy. Nature does not like neat lines and order; it all returns to randomness and disorder right before my very eyes. (sigh)
This morning we have been graced with the presence of two wonderful salesman who frequent the shop. My stomach is still quivering from laughter; these men from competing steel distributors vying for our business. We use both companies. One claims my youngest son is his namesake, the other is our golf guru. I have enjoyed procrastinating but the ledgers are calling my name.
My Zero Dark Forty hubby’s facial hair has been given a reprieve. After watching clips from Sunday’s Oscar Awards it appears facial hair is all the rage right now. Ben Affleck and George Clooney looked a bit hairy but, admittedly, if a beard/mustache is well-groomed it does have its appeal. He smiled gleefully as we noted the hairy trend and he reminded me that Ben Affleck directed Argo; not Zero Dark Thirty. No matter. That nickname is gonna stick (forty for our current age bracket). I wish I had facial hair to hide my complexion. I’m having a bit of a break-out/freak out so when I consulted the oracle aka Google, I discovered that my possible acne affliction might be due to hormones; possibly peri-menopause? Argh! Sad when my 12 y/o and I have to share the Clearasil face wash. Time to get the ProActiv.
Last night Dave created an authentic Ethiopian meal. It featured injera and wat (a millet flour flatbread and beef stew). We arrived home, late, from golf and the aromatic smells permeated the house; stomachs hungry. A lot of the spices are similar to Indian cuisine so that was what we had expected. It definitely was not that and is a taste I have never tasted before. So officially, my Ethiopian fetish is now satisfied. I’ll stick to the coffee, I think.
We did try our Indian Assam tea, though. Dave complains that I never make him tea; which is somewhat true. I am the coffee maker in our home; he the tea. Although I was running late, this morning, I hurriedly boiled water and added loose tea leaves, half & half and brown sugar. I never make tea like this; usually using tea bags instead. The effort, though, was well worth it.
As I sipped my tea, driving to work, I saw a truck maneuvering in and out of traffic as I left my suburb and headed to the freeway. Again, when I exited the freeway I saw the same vehicle jockeying around traffic until it finally registered in my brain that the familiar truck happened to be my crazy husband driving to work!!! Normally he tells me to watch my speed (I do have a lead foot) so I followed directly behind him, at his same pace, and registered that the man was going 65 mph on a city street (speed limit 45 mph)! It was a good thing I did have my tea; driving in my happy space.
It seems that coffee and tea are an integral part of who Dave and I are. He’s the taller cup on the right, mine alongside. After I read Consider the Fork, which is going a bit slow right now, I am going to read, The Devil‘s Cup: A History of the World According to Coffee by Stewart Lee Allen. But I also have to read The Book Thief by March 8th for bookclub. So many books, so little time. Need more tea. I think I’ll pour some from Dave’s cup. He won’t notice…
Dave’s dad is busily sanding and grinding this “little” chop block to cut smaller steel parts. I hear the big chop block running and 5 inch steel emerges from it; steaming and warm. I am constantly amazed at what things the guys create out there. How do they even know how to take it apart and put it back together? I’m just grateful Dave knows what he’s doing. I’m hoping he’ll pass this knowledge down to all the boys so they can be “fix it” kinda men.
Alas, the numbers are calling to me. But first, a cup of tea.