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My mother, the Vice President? 2001-03-13 This morning I dreamt that my mother was the Vice President, like Dubya replaced Cheney with my mother. I was really torn, because on the one hand I hate Dubya, but on the other hand, my mom was inviting me to all kinds of chichi events, attended by rich and powerful people, and the food was really good. I think I ended up being glad she was the Vice President, but that was totally selling out. Dinner with the mother in law (hereafter to be known as MIL) last night was fun. Francisco made a Moroccan chicken and chickpea stew thing and he served it with couscous. It looked and smelled delicious. My vegetable juice was quite good; it wasn't nearly as salty as V8, and it had a lemony tang. I would have far preferred the chicken dish, but me and the juice stood firm. The dinner conversation was, of course, all about the baby. It was all baby all the time. MIL is understandably very excited about the grandbaby--she has always wanted one, and even though she adores the Boy, I know it's not the same. She will probably move back to Seattle, which is where Francisco's sister resides, but she hasn't made any firm plans. MIL also thinks the baby is a boy, which doesn't prove anything, but it's comforting to have some backup. Have I told you about Esther's tour fetish? She will not be happy in the morning unless Francisco or I pick her up, drape her over our right shoulders, and walk her around the house once. We call it the morning tour, and she is really quite insistent about it. She meows stridently until we accede to her wishes, while Lucy looks on in disdain. Here is a picture of Esther:
The picture didn't scan well (believe it or not, it was a color photo) and you can't really see her face, but you can perhaps tell that she is a free spirit. I will write more later, but I need to work now. Very busy you know... Love,
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
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