Posted in it's all relative, once a cheesehead..., the other pillow | Permalink
I stayed at the Deluxe my very last night in Portland, two years ago.
I had packed up the house, the truck had left, the apartment was empty
but it was too late and I was too tired to start the drive. So I
treated myself to one last night in my favorite place. They allow dogs
too so Miss Ruby was all cuddled up in the down comforter right away.
I sent out messages to my friends that I would be at the Driftwood
Lounge in the lobby for one last beverage. I expected maybe one or two
to come. They ALL came. It was a lovely night. Meg walked me up to my
room for one last Ruby kiss, then teared up when she said goodbye to
me----she's a tough cookie, not a crier. I will always remember how
touched I was.
I was excited to be moving on, but sad to have failed at yet another
business, another town. I was sad to leave the best, most "Kate"
apartment I'd ever had. I was happy to be returning to family, but
questioning whether I could really stand all the "Wisconsin" things
that I don't like about Wisconsin. I had hopes that I'd be able to
make my dream come true by compromising on the job (it was most
definitely not my dream job) and moving close to family who could
support me. I was planning on having a family someway, some
how---probably on my own. That would never be possible in pdx, so
there I was on my way back to moo town. But that was a stretch too,
the only thing I really knew was that there was no future for me in
Portland. And I wanted to be home.
I had a ten day drive adventure ahead of me, then a whole new life
with a new job I had no idea how to do, a new town I didn't know. I
had no idea what was waiting for me at my destination.
Turns out it was everything I could have ever wished for. And then some. I am a lucky, lucky girl.
I dropped in at Dad's on the way back from a last-minute work appointment in Menasha earlier this week. My timing was excellent---they were going to have dinner at Cedar Lodge.
Cedar Lodge does what it does very well. Which is to say, it stuffs you to the gills with red meat and ridiculous extras while it wraps you in cedar-paneled Midwestern warmth. Ordering takes awhile.
Fruit or Fritter?
Lettuce Salad or Cottage Cheese?
Lettuce Salad---House, Ceasar or Bacon Spinach?
French Onion or cold Strawberry soup?
Potato, Rice or Vegetable?
Potato---Baked, Mashed, Hash Browns or American Fries?
Baked Potato---once or twice?
It was the longest conversation I've ever had that started with "I'll have the tuna".
Posted in domestic bliss, excursions, it's all relative, once a cheesehead... | Permalink
It is very satisfying to shovel out my front walk; clearing away the 8" of compacted snow and ice that is at last melting into manageable chunks in today's sunny spring tease. It is back-breaking to do it with a trunk-sized emergency car shovel.
I should get a proper shovel, but I refuse. I'm a renter for a reason! I refuse to let this lazy landlord win!
Posted in domestic bliss, once a cheesehead..., ranting and raving | Permalink
Wow...I had an eventful, lovely summer, but didn't blog from mid-July through mid-September. Perhaps I wasn't blogging because I was out living. Or perhaps it was because I couldn't find my computer under Mom's crumpled Kleenex's. Either way, it's high time to catch up...
...huh, all my funny summer stories escape me at the moment.
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He's so frickin' funny, he works like a dog and says it like it is.
The older we get, the more I get to know him, the more I regret not being around more when he was younger. I imagine he had a particularly rough time of it, all alone really when the shit storm hit.
It's strange and wonderful to see all of us on the other side, hopeful and communicating and enjoying each other when we can, usually in Dad's barn. There's nothing like a manure pile to bring family together.
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The sky this morning is crystal blue, the brittle branches are quite beautiful against it, the snow in the yards lays thick like buttercream frosting, and the dog hops through it like it was put there just for her pleasure. Oh, and potatoes never tasted so good.
I might just be ok with winter, this year anyway.
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