Dix Jours

Ten Days Left. As I write this, Julie informs me that she found Tom’s reservation confirmation email, and his plane indeed leaves on the 4th. We’re all breathing yogic sighs of relief and Om. Actually, they are sitting on the porch entertaining guests and I am balancing my computer on nose and typing with my toes for fun.

Today rocked as far as days where you take it ultra easy and do nothing can possibly rock. I don’t remember much of my bleary-eyed morning except for a dream I had about my brother telling me not to say some curse word which was minor in a sentence that I used a major curse word. I will allow you to divulge your imaginations and insert your own best version of what the words could be here. I also had a dream where my mom said, “Can you have breakfast ready uh….say, right now?” And so that made me think, perhaps the internal self-nurturing part of me needed breakfast. I got RIGHT on that mission.

After the morning flew by, we went down the Farmer’s Market where I got some souvenirs (these awesome boots for my aunt’s new baby) and a scarf for myself and other things for other people, items which I obviously can’t tell you in case you’re one of them because the surprise would be ruined and that is worse than a rotten sock in your mouth! Trust me, I know. I took Tom and Julie out to lunch at our favorite restaurant: The Horse of Iron and we sat in the sun as if it was Tahiti in July. I ate a salad with an egg on it, Julie had her last and final serving of Foi Gras, and Tom downed some salmon with “salad” (one lone cherry tomato). We sipped Coconut Rum Daiquiris and Piña Coladas. Ok, that last part about the cocktails was a lie. We saw some girl throwing up in the parking lot, that was pretty exciting. And then we came home and Tom fell and got an egg on his head (not the one from my salad). I asked if we could hard boil it for dinner, but he didn’t find that funny at all. Don’t worry, he is OK, and I didn’t really say that.

Here is the deal –tomorrow is Poisson De Avril which means we get to play jokes on our dinner guests: Mary Lou and Lionel. I’m thrilled to be doing this and let me give you a sneak preview as to the produits alimentaires of the evening. Sorry, I am practicing my French because they will BOTH be speaking it at our table tomorrow evening so you have to be exposed to the hypocrisy of my own personal pet peeve: English-speaking people speaking French to English-speaking people. Note: This does not apply in most educational settings.  

Each place at the table will include two forks, a spoon, a knife, appropriate glassware and a McDonald’s Happy Meal Box or Bag…which I need to get tomorrow morning, while I am back in town.

Starter: Carrot Ginger Pear Soup. For many this will be the most delicious part of the meal and tantalize their taste buds with the winter’s final root vegetable crops, coupled with the gingery spring-like awakening punch and anticipation of what is to come with fresh fruit. Unfortunately, for one guest, it will be saturated in VINEGAR and virtually inedible.

Second / Main Course: Exotic Mushrooms and Cheese in “Peasant’s Purse” Phylo dough,  Salmon 

Third Course: Salad with baked apples, crispy red onions, and whatever else I find in the soil to toss in there. No pun intended.

Fourth Course: Bread and cheeses, grapes

Dessert and Tea:  The desert will of course be a homemade piece of styrofoam decorated like a cake with all the fixings and our guest of honor will be asked to graciously cut us all a slice. The real desert involves berries and buckles, and all the other bells and whistles.

I love a good April Fool’s Joke. As long as it’s HARMLESS.
In saying that, I hope I don’t have any played on me by Julie, she is a hardcore April Fool’s die-hard, WWF smack down, and full of ideas I couldn’t dream up in my most Tylenol with codeine-filled dreams.

Tomorrow I have lots to do to prepare for all of our company, and little places here and there to ski daddle off to. Not literally SKI daddle, but you get the point. Indeed, this week has potential to be pretty full if all goes as planned. I guess even if all doesn’t go as planned, the key is just to keep making plans anyway, just so you can feel important. Isn’t it amazing how before you even know it….a day is gone right before your very eyes and you’re contemplating how many hours of sleep you’re about to get? Herein lies the blessing and curse of time. Feels like I just woke up!

The next two and last guests (for my stay at least) are coming Wednesday; Emily and Polly…hopefully they will have lots of juicy gossip to chat about over their pasta, chicken, and ladies’ nights. This house is going to be brimming with estrogen. I think I will probably commit my soul to the spa during this week to avoid any nail polish thieving, clothes sharing, yoga pose jealousy, and other female-related conflict.
Realistically Yours,

— Emily —


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