Everything Chartreuse & Spring

I found this photograph in a magazine I brought home from work.  The newest 12 by 12 challenge is Chartreuse so I am seeing that color all over now.  I love that we have just one color.  Chartreuse has it's own story to tell and the cast of "extras" can be whatever the artist wants.

Yesterday wore me out.  I was up early (7.30) and noticed the snow on the driveway. I was already in my Pilates clothes (black pants and tee) so I added a coat, gloves etc and went out to shovel off Riley's back stoop.  Then the front porch steps and walk and then the entire driveway.  Finished at 9 and then upstairs for Pilates and at 10, I was on my way to work until 7.  I "worked" the entire day.  Unloading, moving, rearranging etc getting ready for our Open House on the weekend. The tables at work are just low enough to cause my back to begin to seize up.  Arrived home to find G waiting to be served dinner.  I picked up the pasta pot and filled it with water (my go to start when I have no idea what to make) and found everything for Carbonara for G and I had the remainder of the pasta with a tiny pat of butter and some Parmesan.  If I had been more alert, I would have sauteed an onion in some EVOO and steamed a pile of kale on top.  Served that with the pasta.  I just couldn't deal with another pan on the stove.  And I had had tomato kale soup for lunch.

My mother's "go to start" for dinner was to heat up the Club aluminum dutch oven and start a few onions frying.  This could eventually turn into chili, goulash, spaghetti sauce, chicken fricassee or smothered round steak.  Everything was quite similar.  I think she added a can of tomato paste to all  of them. Pork chops was a separate category. My mother wasn't a natural cook and didn't enjoy cooking for her family of 6.  But she had to as there wasn't any prepared food available yet and no "fast food".  Her favorite part of any meal was the dessert.  She did make a very good pie. I can't imagine the stress that dinner time must have been for her in the late 40's and 50's.  And she had our school clothes to WASH and IRON.  No automatic washer and dryers.  No permanent press.  And I had to wear a dress everyday.  Girls could only wear pants to school under a DRESS in those days. How she must have hated ironing my dresses.

By the time I was ten or 12, I was the one starting the onions in the dutch oven and I was the one down in the basement ironing all the clothes for the family and the sheets and kitchen towels.  As punishment, I even had to iron all the underwear.  I liked being in the dark, cool basement by myself with the radio playing all the "new" rock and roll.  I never let her know I liked it. I never let her know I liked anything because that meant she had a new weapon to use. This may have been when I developed my grumpy exterior and gave the impression I was always mad at everyone.  I was. Usually.

It's strange where these daily posts take me.  I can sometimes write about things I had no idea were on my mind.  I thought my mind was on Spring.  Instead, we get therapy of a sort.

I have my usual domestic chores to work through today.  The usual suspects.  And I will actually make a proper dinner.  Chicken.  I do want to go back and try and finish the top stitching (super zig zag) on the wabi sabi placemats.  I enjoyed that.  And I like the way they look on the dinner table.  Makes me smile. I have a new QA magazine to read, my journal needs a line drawing or two.  Right now, I need to do my Pilates so I can have breakfast after.  It's been two weeks and I can see a difference in my posture. I am standing up taller.  Feel it at ten days.  See it at 20.  Live it at 30.  I think there is too much fat over the muscle for me to see much of anything.  I will have to be happy with "feel it".  I do feel stronger.

Tomorrow my daughter is having gall bladder surgery.  In at 9 and out by 4.  Amazing. The gastric upset wasn't gastric.  It was gall stones.  She just wants the pain to stop. Her dad and boyfriend will be providing support. Her boyfriend's mom even made soup for her last weekend.  I'm not the one you want to have around in this sort of medical time.  If I had followed my 10 year old dreams and actually gone to nursing school--whoa, what a mistake that would have been!!!!!  Nurse Ratchet.