This lunch  is a motley crew of leftovers.

Top left: celery and radish

Top right: the last of the cream of broccoli soup

Bottom left: cottage cheese with herbs

Middle right: yogurt parfait

Bottom right: ranch dressing

Today at lunch I sat next to my friend Elijah. I opened my Wednesday lunch. He said, “That looks like a bento lunch.” You are right on the money, my friend!

Mix 1 cup sour cream with 1 t baking soda and set aside.

Cream 1/4 pound butter and 1 cup sugar. Add 2 eggs, 2 cups sifted flour, 1 1/2 t baking powder, 1/4 t salt and 1 T vanilla.

Mix thoroughly and combine with sour cream mixture.

In another bowl make the swirl topping mix: 1/2 cup chopped nuts, 1/2 t cinnamon, 1/2 c brown sugar, 1/2 cup chocolate chips.

Pour half the batter into a greased loaf pan. Add half of the swil mixture, covering all batter. Add remaining batter and top with the rest of the swirl mixture. Use a knife to gently swirl the topping into the batter. Bake at 350* for 45 minutes to an 1 hour.

Tips: I reduced the white sugar to 2/3 cup. I reduced the brown sugar to 1/3 cup.

I used walnuts in this recipe, but you could try pecans, mixed nuts, almonds, hazelnuts, etc.

I used light margarine and light sour cream.

I used half whole wheat flour and half all purpose flour.

“My kid can only eat half a cup [paper, like a tiny Slurpee cup, holds about 10 ounces] of popcorn chicken. Can you just charge me for half of this?” Um, no. You should have asked for a quarter of a pound and had them put it in a little bag. When the deli puts it in the barcoded cup, I have to charge you for the whole cup!

“The other big store down the street has spray-on truck bed liner on sale for half the price you charge. Here’s the receipt from the other store. Can you match the price?” Again, um, no. Why don’t you just go back there and buy more at that price. And if you really need EIGHT more cans of this stuff, wouldn’t it be cheaper to just buy a plastic truck bed liner?

“Why won’t my EBT [food stamp card] work on hot food from the deli?” Bitch, can you go to KFC with your food stamps? Then why should you be able to buy fried chicken and mashed potatoes at Big Box Mart with food stamps?

(This was actually a couple weeks ago, but I haven’t posted in a month. Bad, bad blogger! Thirty lashes with wet udon!)

Wife: “Can I match the price on Pepsi cubes at the Other Big Store?” Yes, but it’s a limit of ONE. Husband: “Grumble, grumble. There we’d be able to get two. *whine*.” Wife (to husband in condescending tone): “Honey, where are we? Big Box Mart, not Other Big Store. If she says it’s a limit of one, it’s a limit of one.”

You know, sometimes the customer is right!

Upon arriving at the courthouse, the two of us decided to go make sure everything was ready. What a sight we must have made crossing the street in full dress at noon, him in a black suede jacket, my white dress billowing around my legs as I clutched my bouquet. I dropped my drawstring purse on the x-ray machine’s belt and stepped through the security gate. As the security guard passed her handheld metal detector over my rhinestone tiara, she quipped, “I bet you didn’t think this would happen on your wedding day”. I laughed and Michael and I continued hand in hand to the basement of the courthouse. We found the JP, found all our family members and sat down on bench to wait our turn.

There was another couple getting married right after us. They were probably in their late 30s. The bride’s family was desperately trying to keep the groom from seeing her even though she was dressed in regular clothes, a neutral top and a brown skirt. “Who gets married in a brwon skirt?,” I was thinking.

The JP asked if we’d like to get married outside. We tripped up some marble steps, pausing for pix, and walked into a lovely courtyard. The grass was lush, the trees were verdant and we were posed next to a marble statue of a man astride a horse. The JP, Sharon, gave us a lovely ceremony. She read the Apache wedding prayer. The ceremony was brief, but poignant. I nearly cried and so did Michael. I had hand-embroidered vintage handkerchiefs for each of us – an “M” on one with a blue outline for Michael and an “S” on one with a pink flower for me. I made corsages for the ladies in the wedding party – Sherrie (mother of the bride), Lavon (mother of the groom), and Bea (”adoptive” grandmother of the bride) – that matched my bouquet. Everyone took pictures. They showed that we were happy and emotional. Thomas (the brother of the groom) made a wonderful video that made us cry. Afterward, we had a nice lunch at Doc Pierce’s. It’s a dark and dated steak restaurant. When I was a kid, it seemed so sophisticated and special. “I’ll have ‘the Bartender’s Special’.” Michael had “ambrosia” – chicken breast in a polynesian marinade with wild rice pilaf.

We had our reception in October. We had the main dishes catered and Michael, myself, Lavon and Sherrie supplied the rest. The tables were covered with simple white tablecloths. I made centerpieces for each table with an antique blue Ball jar, neutral colored polished river stones, white daisies and blue irises. They were flanked by small flute-edged glass candleholders, a blue candle burning inside each one. The wedding favor was a fortune cookie at each place setting. Our friend, Mark, was our DJ and played light, instrumental music while we ate. Michael and I danced to “Purple Rain” by Prince and ‘our song’ “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan. It was so nice to finally meet Michael’s extended family. He cried when they left, because, even thought he was so happy to see them, it was even sadder to see them go. Mark played a great mix of music. I danced with my father-in-law, Bruce and brother-in-law, Thomas. Brother-in-law Matthew was occupied with girlfriend Lauren. One of the funniest moments of the day came at the end. I was gathering leftovers to split three ways (between mom, in-laws and Michael and I). I was rinsing out a container when Lauren came up behind me. “Do not tell me you are washing dishes on your wedding day!” After everyone was gone and food was squared away, Michael and I left. For some reason we went shoe shopping afterwards.

I left my tiara on.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experiences, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have have closed myself as fingers
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously, her first rose)

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain has such small hands

Last night, I had a dream where I came back from somewhere (I do not know from where) and went to our apartment. Someone else was living there. I went to my mother’s house and she was shocked to see me. She said I had been gone for two years and she presumed I was dead. I said that I thought I had only been been gone for three days, a week at most. My mother kept convincing me how long I had actually been gone. She had given away all my possessions. She had me and Michael’s cat, Kamilah (who was very happy to see me), but she did not seem to have our dog, Bijou. I left the house in search of Michael. I remember feeling a great sense of loss and grief. In the dream, I broke down and wailed in frustration. I went to a mall, which is a place I have been in my subconscious before though it is unlike any mall I have been to before. I ran into a (real life) co-worker, Frank, and asked him if he had seen Michael. He said no. I do remember I was wearing high heels while searching for my husband, something I never wear in real life because of bad knees, back, etc.

Once I told Michael today of the dream I had last night/this morning he told me the dream he had. He had a dream where he went forward in time to find me and then went back in time to find me.

Michael and I think alike, say the same things at the same time, call each other right before the other was going to. We can look at each other and know what the other is thinking. Is is possible that our sleeping brains were sending waves back and forth that would correlate our dreams?

 

Main Entry: 1cor·re·late Pronunciation: 'kor-&-l&t, 'kär-, -"lAt Function: noun Etymology: back-formation from correlation 1 : either of two things so related that one directly implies or is complementary to the other (as husband and wife) 2 : a phenomenon (as brain activity) that accompanies another phenomenon (as behavior), is usually parallel to it (as in form, type, development, or distribution), and is related in some way to it - correlate adjective