The Chicken Never Stops

On Sundays, we go to Mimi's for lunch, unless Mimi has something else to do. Mimi, my mother, frequently has a lot to do. There are so many of us, that there are almost always at least a couple who go for lunch. Lots of days there are flowers in the middle of the table. A centerpiece in Mimi-colors, which run to luscious lipstick-rich peach and melon colors. She cooks a big dinner-style lunch, after church. (Take note of the very clean kitchen, with the tureen lid arrayed decoratively on the wall.) Today, we didn't even go to church and we still got the big dinner. Mimi says "dunnuh." Think Doris Day with Scarlett O'Hara's accent. Only more. Mimi never cooked like that for Sunday-after-church when we were young, we had swiss cheese on white bread, with a home made pickle (bread-and-buttuh pickle). She didn't even cook a big Sunday dunnuh when my children were young. When they got all mature and mobile (in other words, now that I have absolutely no say-so in what these people do), she cooks a stop-in-your-tracks lunch, to lure the young ones in. Mimi's house is so different from my house. She sets the table with placemats. I am not sure I OWN placemats anymore, though I distinctly remember the trouble I had picking some out when I got married.

At my house today, we were planning to try a little veterinary medicine on the kitchen table, since Trina the Mama-cat recently had significant abdominal surgery to render her kit-less. Trina did not want any part of that. If you are comparing, note the fingerprints on the fridge, the cat on the table and the lack of china tureen lids arrayed on my wall. Also, it's not the color of lipstick.Our Young Son has been watching TENNIS all weekend. Lots of cans on my table, no cans on Mimi's table, if you're keeping score. We had to make a run for Mimi's and then a precisely timed run home, to insure that we missed no critical moment of Nadal v. Federer, match for the ages.

To mix things up, Emma sometimes joins our Young Son, when she's bored. No need to run anywhere during that tennis match, between the rain delays and the late finish.
It's really hot around here. The babies want Mama Cat to hurry outside, off the kitchen table, because they are STILL NURSING. They look old to be nursing. The cat in the back is alive. I think. There used to be two of them, and they looked exactly alike. We aren't sure what has changed. We never see them together. Are there still two of them or has one found another home? Because of their unique dispositions, we call the pair the "Devil Cats." Is it possible that they just simply merged into one very devilish cat?The Young Son is not the only one doing some serious "nothing" today. The Sophisticate is probably preparing for student teaching or something serious like fantasy baseball. No, that's BigB. Maybe WebMD? Maybe waiting to go to "dunnuh" at Mimi's? Oh, Facebook? You're kidding! Buckshot is going nowhere. He's miserable in the car. I mean, WE are miserable when he is in the car. He's delighted in the car, anticipating a walk in the park with a lot of ball-throwing.I love it when Mimi laughs. She closes her eyes and really, really laughs. And THAT is why the picture is a little blurry. To get the whole laughing effect. Today, most of us went to lunch at Mimi's. Impossibly out of all the things in the whole universe she might have chosen, she cooked....wait for it....barbecued chicken. Yes indeed. The ONE SINGLE THING I might have possibly cooked this whole long weekend. And PPP - the family hero making the big cake? Mimi made a cake too - only with chocolate icing. Conversation ensued about whether or not I got a crystal or glass cake dome when I got married. I can't find the placements. I am willing to put a cat on my kitchen table. Seriously? A cake dome?

So there you have it. Our house - cats on the table, fingerprints on the fridge and no shirt on the boy during tennis. Mimi's house - placemats, cake domes, and gold jewelry. Both houses - barbecue chicken. Same recipe, a variation on Miss Essie Mae's baked chicken. No complaints at either house. Thank you very much.

Someone please take this baby home. And its sibling. Not the devil cat or devil cats, whichever. Chili? Are you listening?

I married BigD

Friday, June 27th, was our wedding anniversary. A few years ago we went to the church, amidst a lot of hoopla, and had a wedding. We were like the main event. It was a lovely affair, you can ask my mother, plus we have a book of pictures to prove it. Every time I stand at the front of the church, I think about that day. I also think about the days we baptized all our babies in the same spot. Also the day that our eldest son, who was in the Cherub Choir (age 4) leaned into the strategically placed microphone and sang an unplanned solo that began "Maaaaa- eh-reee had a bay-bay-bay-bee." during the precious little Cherub Choir's Christmas program during 'big church.' Those are all fleeting thoughts.

On June 27, in whatever year that was (BigD keeps up with those details), we had no idea at all what we were doing. None, or nil (international soccer talk). We said things like "I will love, honor, comfort and keep you." Keep... where? Keep what? BigD thought we would get married and then he, as KEN, would keep me, as Barbie, in a dream house. On the other hand, I was overwhelmed with the thank you notes and consumed with the desire to make better lasagna than his mother made. I won.

I now realize that the 'keep' means 'keep on' - much of being married is centered on 'keeping on.' AND. . . sitting in a lot of fields, gyms, and auditoriums, for years. That's not in the vows. Of all the things that BigD is, he's the DAD of this brood, and it's good to have him walking this children - laden road alongside.

He's a strong guy - most likely, BigD is physically holding them in place to get that picture made. Not only did we get married on that single day, we have decided to be married every single day since then. As a wedding planning woman, I have stood at the back of many churches for hundreds of weddings. Every single time, I think..."Whoa, you have no idea what you're saying right now."

Take these two - Chili and his Lovely Bride - I'm feeling OK about them, since they seem to know how to listen to each other. But still, they have no idea what's ahead. That's a very, very good thing, the not knowing what's ahead...because seriously, how would we have prepared for what it was like when my frail and increasingly confused in-laws were living in this house with us and our many small children, all of whom resumed thumb-sucking in that time period. Or how easily and willingly he slid into the role of 'dad' for our bonus child. Or what it might be like to huddle in the dark in the bathroom during a wicked storm that sent a tree midline through the house.Yeah, you're laughing now, buddy, now that nobody is in diapers, and you get to sleep all night, and the rain is no longer pouring through the 5 holes in the roof and you're all dressed up in your new Easter tie.

Should we have said things like...I'll cut up the meat, in sickness and in health?How about... I'll set out the luminaria, the most miserable job in my universe, for better .... ....or for worse, we'll both get up at 5 a.m. to take the young ones to the buses leaving the church for the beach trip, because at 5:30 a.m. anything's better together.For richer (garden soil) I'll move the compost to the flower bed.

...for poorer....I'm at "the store" - Saks on Fifth in NYC at Christmas - on BUSINESS, so it doesn't count - but here's a picture. This is an aside, but when BigB, our eldest, was in about 4th grade, he had miser as a vocabulary word. You'll never guess who he gave as an example of miser. It was NOT his mother.To love and to cherish ...and we've already talked about the sunglasses...but OK, whatever, it's our anniversary. Buckshot likes to have serious conversations with him. BigD actually knows what Buckshot is saying.

My favorite line of the wedding service is probably "With all that I am and all that I have, I honor you." That's easy to say when you're all dressed up, and there are flowers and music and candles.... but, the real honoring comes every single day.

And TODAY, BigD, I am going to honor you by NOT putting in the picture of you snoring on the couch.But, from this day forward, I'll bet PPP is more careful about making faces at the camera.