Last night we made a dinner that has: cabbage, sausage, carrots, potatoes and onions in it. It was fantastic and even again as lunch today. I also made a batch of molasses oatmeal cookies that take some getting used too, but I tell myself that back in the days of depression they would be like ambrosia. All in all it made for a old world dining experience.
I watched the Oscars and Tim played Mech’s, and Sarah went to a staff meeting (today is her first day on the job). I guessed sixteen right and six wrong. I think Bill Murray should have gotten best actor. Poor man, he has always been one of my favorite actors, I love Groundhog’s Day and What about Bob. Comic genius I tell you! It rates up there with Uncle Buck, A Christmas Story and What a Way to Go!
I can tell spring is in the air (at least for the time being…indian spring?), because I am being drawn out of my hermitage. I had coffee at a coffee house, an honest to god coffeehouse, the ones I used to love so much — Michelangelo’s to visit with my poet professor friend Roberta. We talked about writing and I got to express my concern of feeling pressure to write native american themed literature. She admitted she used to feel the same way, but then gave several examples of other multicultural writer’s experiences and ended by saying “I am indian, therefore whatever I write will be indian.” Such simplicity. I think I am going to stop worrying about it and just write whatever comes to my mind. Perhaps being indian will permeate it in someway, but I am certainly not going to force it (nor do I want to).
The rest of the weekend was spent with my darling who was home for the entire weekend for once. We went to the dog park with Pluto on Saturday AND Sunday, we got our Turbo Tax thing from Best Buy, Ben dropped off a load of shit, peat moss, topsoil, some flower via Jen, and Sarah came to roost. I am now so excited for spring to really get here, and stay, so that I can start seeing if I have the gardening touch.