CRS and Caprese Salad

By Margy McCarthy

There were a number of times in the last week when I remembered I needed to post today.

One might think that because I am on vacation for two weeks, there would be time aplenty to rein in a page and a half of concrete thought. If I were relaxing on a beach somewhere with a trashy novel and the surf lapping at my toes, or sitting on the deck of a mountain lodge snuggled in a soft sweater against the cool fall breeze with a glass of pinot noir in my hand as I watched a red-tailed hawk circle on an updraft- I would be filled with writerly inspiration. In either of these scenarios, (or for that matter, any number of others) my mind would be strong, focused, and calm.

That, unfortunately, is not my reality. But perhaps my reality is more Erma-like anyway.

In addition to bouts of “desert spring cleaning,” getting the plants ready for my winter garden, volunteering to make political phone calls, and scrubbing toilets, it appears that I also have CRS. Here it is, Monday morning, and I was innocently sitting with my coffee and flipping through a magazine on the patio when Ohmygosh, it’s Monday morning and nobody posted on Erma! flashed through my brain.

Trust the caffeine to break through that CRS haze that way- I do have infrequent moments of clarity. Sadly, they only occur when I am sipping coffee and flipping through magazines.

So. Here I am.

Snooze will be descending from the mountain this weekend for his first visit home since the big move. We visited him there a few weeks ago for a two-day respite from the searing heat of the desert, and were given a tour of his apartment which was nicely furnished with his bed from home, a TV, and the Everest of laundry piles. We spent part of our time that weekend combing the Flagstaff Goodwill for dishes and cookware, and part buying groceries so he can eat at home more often. There really was no point in buying a hamper.

But this will be the first time he’s been back in my kitchen. I have been instructed that he will be in dire need of lemon chicken with capers and rotini with pesto, along with a big bowl of Caprese salad the minute his feet hit our property. I’ve already purchased the fresh mozzarella.

It’s nice to know that I’ve been missed.

Too bad he no longer has a bed here.

Too bad he doesn’t own a suitcase large enough to contain his entire wrinkled wardrobe. (heh)

But he will bring his appetite. And I have missed watching him eat.