Sarah is never afraid to taste anything new. The other day I stopped at a friend's house to drop off the last of the eggplant from the garden. MMM and they are good! She was cooking down okra with onion and tomoatoe and then she would mix in some cooked ground beef. Ommygosh! The smell was enough to make you go crazy. The taste? It tastes like a rice dressing.
What am I cooking today? You guessed it! Too bad I only got a small amount of okra. I could eat that entire pot just as "samplings". The best part is being able to sit in the kitchen on the computer and cook! MMM. Rich cooked spaghetti. Gonna be good eating. Just right after an afternoon of swimming.
Life is good!
The kids are getting excited about the start of school. Sarah said it will be so fun - the first three days. Then the homework will start. Blah! But, my house will be so quiet during the day to work. ahhh....
Last night I had a dream about my grandmother. She passed away in December and I never had a dream about her. I never wondered why not or even wished to have one. I just let it be. Last night I dreamed we were at her old house in town. And we were sitting outside under the carport like we did when I was a teen. It was early morning and my grandmother's hair was "set". You know, with those tiny black curlers that have the white inside and you can kinda squish them. The ones that havethe pink plastic sticks that go thru them to hold them in place. Those kinda. And her hair was set in them and she had a scarf folded several times that ran around her head along the edge of those curlers and the ends of the scarf were tied in a knot at the top of her forehead with the ends sticking up like little ears.
My grandmother had this wooden swing like a bench that was made in a wooden frame. She had painted it yellow. Bright yellow. We all loved to sit in it. It would rock with little to no effort and was very comfortable for being a wooden swing. The sides of the frame came up high on each end.
In my dream, my grandmother was sitting in that swing with her hair all set and I was sitting in a chair next to the swing. My grandmother was talking in French, as she often did, and I would just answer yes...and nod.. as if I knew what she was saying. I remember looking towards her to see that grin on her face because I do not know much French and could not tell what she was saying. As she turned toward me she continued talking. That's when I noticed the frame from the wooden swing fell just below her eyes. Her soft eyes. Eyes that held so much emotion. I could see she was smiling by the way her eyes were all wrinkled in the corners and she was kinda squinting. But I wanted to see her face. I wanted to see her thin lips and hear her voice and hear her laughing. I got up to peek over the frame of the swing.
That's when I woke up. I'm left with a feeling of longing...
I know she watches over me. I know she hears me when i talk to her. But I wanted to just see her... one more time.