I have no Friday in Photographs to share. Boo. Hiss. Here's a picture of one of my favorite coastal spots - a very gnarly overlook at Torrey Pines.
It's so windswept.
Mr. Pear's brother arrived on Friday night, followed by Mr. Pear's dads on Saturday night. As per usual when we are hosting guests, I cannot get it together to complete all my grocery shopping in one fell swoop. I went to Costco last weekend to spare me a weekday trip with mini-pear in tow. I made multiple lists and planned menus and still, I ended up hitting various grocery stores (Trader Joes, Henry's Vons, Costco again, and even Ralph's - so not down with Ralph's) all week long. I even had to send Mr. Pear to Henry's on Saturday morning, found I needed to stop there myself on Saturday afternoon and we stopped there again this evening on our way home.
I need to re-evaluate my shopping habits. It's very picky of me to not be able to buy everything at the same place. I tend to buy canned good and pantry essentials at places like Trader Joes, except they don't carry the brand of soymilk that mini-pear prefers, so I needed to hit another store for that. I decided to hit Von's, mainly because it was on the way, but it was only once I was there that I remembered I was going to use the dishwasher with all these guests, so I needed some detergent. They only had one brand of phosphate-free detergent and the cashier warned me that it had taken him six cycles to get the soap off his dishes, so while I now had the right brand of soymilk, I didn't have dish detergent. Continue this annoying cycle with various other specific products and grocery list omissions and you have the story of my meek little housewifely life.
I also didn't need to spend 2 hours at the park on Friday afternoon. Mini-pear had been very patient with my pillow fluffing and counter-top scrubbing all morning and she hadn't complained when I brought up the second Costco trip, so when we got a call that her friends were going to be at the park, I decided there was no good reason why we shouldn't go down there for half an hour before running our errand. Give prize for good fellow* and all that jazz. But then I didn't know that my intrepid lay-therapist skills would be requested. During the whole sordid marriage collapsing story, I sat and nodded and produced what must have been perceived as pearls of wisdom, because then the story unraveled with an astonishing rapidity and there was no good time to interrupt the tales of abandonment and polyamory and drug abuse with, "Boy, is that the time? I really need to get up to Costco for some cheap wine and bulk spring mix!"
I did manage to tear myself away, a bit awkwardly, and I'm glad I did. Unless they are all pulling a Susan** and surreptitiously squirreling their meals into their napkins and then into the trash or badly potted plants, my guests are enjoying the food. Friday night we had chili (easy, re-heatable, good excuse to eat tortilla chips). Saturday night - pasta salad with sun dried tomato sauce, roasted vegetables and buffalo mozzarella, also a leafy salad with a really amazing shallot and rice vinegar dressing that I whipped up, on the fly, no recipe, inspired by a half remembered farmer's market conversation on KCRW's Good Food (praise sky buddy for podcasts!). This evening - black bean quinoa salad, a somewhat Mexican-ish coleslaw and bean and cheese quesadillas.
But now I am tired of playing chef. Real chefs have orthopedic shoes (if they're smart) and rubberized shock absorbing mats on their kitchen floors. I have played out house slippers and ceramic tiles. Monstrous.
*That's going to mean absolutely nothing to 99% of you, but sometimes I like to check and see if my brother actually does read this;)
** Another inside family joke or unfortunate disorder depending on how you look at it.
Comments