This is a note I wrote in March of last year- pre Purslane. The great thing about this is that I still love spending Saturday nights like this... reading it made me feel like even though life has changed in a thousand ways, I am still the same. And this morning for church I am going to wear that same brown dress and vintage necklace.
This evening I found myself sitting on the front porch with a bottle of Shiraz (French, which the man running the cash register assured me was a "fine region for Shiraz" in reaction to my dubious gaze and judgmental diatribe about the best Shiraz grapes coming from South America), Triscuit Rosemary and Olive Oil crackers, the CD player with some band Grant discovered a few weeks ago that I have been trying to get into, Elliott, and the first seventy degree evening in too many months. I put on my Chacos and a fleece and put my feet up on the railing.
It was brilliant.
The only missing piece was Grant, who is working late tonight. But he called and I chatted to him with my eyes closed imagining he was in the chair next to me.
A few minutes into my bliss, I realized something in my left boob was scratching me, and I pulled out a twenty dollar bill that I had stuffed in my tank top earlier this afternoon. This is a long story.
I called my friend Tiff, who was free and able to chat for a few minutes about nothing. She is fantastic to talk to, as her vocabulary is broad and littered with frequent cussing. We go back and forth from important to ordinary with the skill and ease of two people who have nothing to hide and are just happy to be around on a Saturday evening.
Tomorrow I am going to wear my brown dress with my knee high boots and vintage necklace to church. I should probably shave my legs and have something more then coffee for breakfast.