Monday, July 19, 2010
Weekends aren't really about rest.
It was kind of a strange weekend. Laura and I are both itching to get the house in SOME KIND OF DAMN ORDER but we can't until the carpet is installed in that bedroom! Home Depot is coming this morning to measure, and we already chose the style we want when we went to the store on Saturday, so hopefully we can rush this thing along and get it done (by Friday maybe???). You'd think we asked that it be dipped in gold, it's been such a tedious process!
Saturday afternoon I started to mow the lawn (temps in the upper 90s be damned) when Laura came outside and said we were going to meet her father and stepmother for dinner in a few hours. Laura's stepsister's boyfriend had a serious motorcycle accident last week (a solo accident on a deserted stretch of road) and though her stepsister (her stepmother's blood daughter) had told her he was improving, it turns out that in reality he had a head injury and was on life support in a medically induced coma. Jeez. Now it seems like it's a waiting game, because he has a living will with a DNR (do not resuscitate) order. So his family has to decide when to remove the life support and see if he can survive on his own. And once they remove it, that's it. They can't start it again if he's unable to breathe on his own. I can't imagine having to make that decision. They're waiting to see if he improves any more, but L's father and stepmother came up from Wilmington because the verdict seemed grim.
Since nothing was going to change for the time being, they called us to meet for dinner and get an update on their future grandchild (the first among SIX sisters, have I mentioned that yet?). We met at a place we'd all been wanting to try, a Spanish tapas placed called Jaleo. We had a LOT of small plates between the four of us. My favorites were ajo blanco con cangrejo, a chilled almond and garlic soup with crab meat and green grapes (which sounds insane but was delicious!); datiles con tocino, fried dates wrapped in bacon; and berenjenas a la miel, lightly battered eggplant with honey.
Sunday started in a typical way, but L. started feeling hormonal and overwhelmed by the house being in SUCH a state of disarray that she started crying (seven weeks to go!). It didn't help that it was in the high 90s YET AGAIN. We have air conditioning, but it's an old house that needs the insulation updated, and when you're about eight months pregnant, you can't get comfortable and being hot just makes everything 50 times worse (so I have been told and I believe it). Hey, I had my own anxiety about things (wasn't a blog post a few days ago called "Freaking the fuck out"?), so I understand. A few hugs, Chinese takeout for dinner, and an unexpected Paul McCartney concert on TV and we were both feeling better.
In between trips and meals and such, I got some chores done too. I removed an unneeded dimmer switch from a room, touched up the paint in one of the rooms, did some laundry, and finished reading a book.
Saturday afternoon I started to mow the lawn (temps in the upper 90s be damned) when Laura came outside and said we were going to meet her father and stepmother for dinner in a few hours. Laura's stepsister's boyfriend had a serious motorcycle accident last week (a solo accident on a deserted stretch of road) and though her stepsister (her stepmother's blood daughter) had told her he was improving, it turns out that in reality he had a head injury and was on life support in a medically induced coma. Jeez. Now it seems like it's a waiting game, because he has a living will with a DNR (do not resuscitate) order. So his family has to decide when to remove the life support and see if he can survive on his own. And once they remove it, that's it. They can't start it again if he's unable to breathe on his own. I can't imagine having to make that decision. They're waiting to see if he improves any more, but L's father and stepmother came up from Wilmington because the verdict seemed grim.
Since nothing was going to change for the time being, they called us to meet for dinner and get an update on their future grandchild (the first among SIX sisters, have I mentioned that yet?). We met at a place we'd all been wanting to try, a Spanish tapas placed called Jaleo. We had a LOT of small plates between the four of us. My favorites were ajo blanco con cangrejo, a chilled almond and garlic soup with crab meat and green grapes (which sounds insane but was delicious!); datiles con tocino, fried dates wrapped in bacon; and berenjenas a la miel, lightly battered eggplant with honey.
Sunday started in a typical way, but L. started feeling hormonal and overwhelmed by the house being in SUCH a state of disarray that she started crying (seven weeks to go!). It didn't help that it was in the high 90s YET AGAIN. We have air conditioning, but it's an old house that needs the insulation updated, and when you're about eight months pregnant, you can't get comfortable and being hot just makes everything 50 times worse (so I have been told and I believe it). Hey, I had my own anxiety about things (wasn't a blog post a few days ago called "Freaking the fuck out"?), so I understand. A few hugs, Chinese takeout for dinner, and an unexpected Paul McCartney concert on TV and we were both feeling better.
In between trips and meals and such, I got some chores done too. I removed an unneeded dimmer switch from a room, touched up the paint in one of the rooms, did some laundry, and finished reading a book.
# posted by smacky @ 7:59 AM 
