It’s not something we really celebrate in our family. It might have something to do with not being Irish– or maybe because we’re not Catholic. In fact, I tend to wear orange on St. Paddy’s Day although I’m not technically “protestant” either. I just fall on that side of the theological equation, so it seems to fit.
However, I LOVE corned beef and cabbage. Always have– particularly the cabbage. So, we’ll be having that for lunch today. Mmm… One of these days, I want to brine my own brisket, but thus far, I’ve bought the four dollar briskets at the store, popped them in a Dutch oven covered in water, and let the thing boil to death… half an hour before time to eat, I chop a head or two of cabbage, stuff in the pot, and let it boil too. Not hard… but I love it. It’s not exactly gourmet dining… no one will ever nominate it for meal of the century, but it’s good.
I’m thinking it might be fun to have scones and strawberries too, so I may go down to the “van” at the corner of Norma and Bowman and buy a half flat of Oxnard strawberries– if I make the scones. I’ll serve with vanilla whipped cream and the strawberries on top. Won’t it be yummy?
So, in addition, I’m on cloud nine. Last night, I went to my card club at my Stampin’ Up! demonstrator’s house. You know, I tend to dread those nights. It doesn’t make sense. You see, I love it when I get there. I enjoy making cards, laughing and goofing off with Challice and the other ladies, and having that time away from the house to interact with others. It’s good for me. However, I’m a homebody. I like to be at home, alone, doing my own thing. I love being holed up on the couch with my laptop, writing the stories that fill my mind all the time. I love to read a book, sew something, or work on a website. I enjoy my home. I love everything about it– even the stuff I don’t. I know that doesn’t make sense, but the truth is, I do.
The ladies in the stamp club, however, aren’t from my normal “circle of friends.” I think I’m the only homeschooler, I’m unusual with my nine kids and I think I’m the only one who doesn’t work outside the home. I have a very, very different life from these women, and I love hearing them talk. It’s fun to hear stories about their day, the vacations they took, their grandbabies, and their dreams.
Last night, I met two new women. It was a a wonderful time. The first woman says she’s from Wyoming. I happen to have a friend there, so I ask the town. She tells me that she’s from Casper, Wyoming. What a coincidence! I just wrote about Casper, Wyoming when I finished up my book fro m NaNoWriMo. Talk about fun! Additionally, she looks exactly like one of the gals from my message board– exactly. It was a little freaky at times.
Then the highlight of the evening occurred. The other woman started talking about how she met her husband. The story was long, complicated, and incredible. We all sat there entranced– even the gal from Wyoming who had heard it before. As I listened, the writer in me began spinning it in my mind as she told of how she came to California, met her husband, and then discovered history that was unreal– but true.
Right now, I have permission to write it. I am anxious to begin. I gave her my email address and told her that if her husband objects, email and let me know. I pray she emails to talk about the story, give me more information, and so forth. I know I’ll shake if I get an unfamiliar email address until I receive the “ok” or offer for more information.
I knew I’d enjoy myself once I got there. I knew that the cards would be fun and the fellowship wonderful. I had no idea that I’d come home on cloud nine with an incredible story that begged to be told.