Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Chicken pot pie and other terribly important things.

I prepare my dinners in advance and portion them out into Tupperware containers for the week. Do you do that? When I get home from work, I pop one in the microwave and I’m set. It’s all very industrial. I even eat right out of the Tupperware because I have this thing about washing dishes and the thing is I don’t like to do it. 

Now, I would like to have chicken pot pie for dinner tonight. Not just any chicken pot pie. I want this chicken pot pie. In my mouth. Tonight.

But I can’t have chicken pot pie for dinner because I already have my Tupperware dinner ready for tonight and it is brown rice and steak and spinach. Brown rice and steak and spinach. But who would want brown rice and steak and spinach when you could have chicken pot pie, I ask you? I would guess nobody.

The thing is, guys, here is the thing: I cannot have chicken pot pie tonight. Not just because I already have brown rice and steak and spinach ready, but because chicken pot pie is about 85% pure butter. And that kind of butter-laden foodstuff has no place in a Tuesday night. Perhaps a Sunday (because do you guys watch what you eat on Sundays? I have always thought that Sunday calories don’t mean anything on account of it being a holy day and all. Please support, if you will.) and I just remembered that Sunday nights are the perfect nights to cook chicken pot pie and also my sister will be in town and I think that calls for a little buttery celebration. Now I am satisfied because I know I will have chicken pot pie soon even if tonight I will only have brown rice and steak and spinach.

And, while we’re on the subject, how good are pancakes? Someday, when I am a gazillionaire, I will hire someone to bring me fresh-off-the-griddle pancakes every hour, on the hour. Not that I will eat them every hour, mind you; I would just like to have the option.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011


The past few mornings, as I've stepped out the front door, I've scrunched up my nose at the chill in the air and said to my rosebushes, "Well, it seems that September's upon us again, huh?" And those rosebushes bob their little pink heads back at me sadly because, you know, September means the end of roses. September is the end of a lot. September is the end of sno-cones. September is the end of summer. And I love summer. Sometimes I wish summers would last forever and ever.

But summers don't last. They can't. Because if summer lasted forever pretty soon we'd all get tired of swimming and sno-cones and fireworks and school would never start so we couldn't ever get new school supplies and also we couldn't have things like pumpkin soup or cocoa or molasses cookies.

Despite all my heartbreak over the end of summer, I find I deeply love September. It's simply the most beautiful month, isn't it though? It's warm enough that you don't need a sweater but just cool enough that you could wear a cardigan if you wanted. (So help me, I love cardigans.) Target's shelves are stacked with bright yellow boxes of Crayola markers and shiny notebooks. All the fall decorations come out in September, too! The oranges and the yellows and the leaves and the gourds. I love decorating in the fall. And fall is exciting because it's just the beginning of all the fun: harvests and pumpkin carving and Thanksgiving and also PIE. September is the end of a lovely summer, but also the door to a beautiful and wonderful and magical time.

I've reached a September in my life. One happy summer is closing and a beautiful fall is waiting for me. And though I see that this fall is everything--exactly everything--I want, I hesitate for a moment and indulge my ache for one more simple summer day. One more sunny afternoon, one more baseball game, one more popsicle.

But then a scrunch up my nose, wink at my poor roses and run out to meet my September. 

Monday, September 12, 2011

People I Love

Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator. 
But among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh.
-W.H. Auden

Is there anything better than a road trip with your baby sister?

Or going out to dinner with your favorite brother?

Or being in love with a total goofball?

Nope. There's nothing better than that stuff.