...When life gives you lemons/ You don't make lemonade/ You use them to make girls cry/ You take those lemons/ No sugar at all/ And you squirt it right into our eyes...
It's not a metaphor.
Okay, of course it is, but it's not only a metaphor.
I've been squeezing a lemon most mornings and adding hot water, then steeping the rind in more hot water for a beverage all day. I have been finding the leftover rinds really useful for scrubbing greasy surfaces, or lifting nasty odors. It takes awhile for the rinds to be "used up" because they're sturdy and long-lasting, several days beyond when I consumed the juice.
And but so not that I'm in the habit of taking health advice from Hollywood celebrities, but I've been rather a fan of Drew Barrymore since she was a little kid in ET, and especially loved her in 50 First Dates which I saw finally a couple of months ago (I've recently discovered that I have an affinity for Adam Sandler movies; the hell, man?) but she's awfully cute in this video about lemon water. Oh, hey, Primarily Decorative is back; look at her adding a superfluous sentence because she hates one-sentence paragraphs, no matter how long the sentence is. Immaterial that it's been three years (really? yeah, really) since she's updated this once-upon-a-time daily blog- Blogworld doesn't judge (hush) and so I'mma switch from Third Person back to First and pick up as if there's been No Interruption Whatsoever.
My blog, I do what I want.
MomLife has been many iterations of surreality. During increasing levels of intervention at her home, EAS and I took her "shopping" for care homes, and all three of us had a preference for the same place, which is a 35 minute drive from my home instead of 11 minutes driveway to driveway, and re-homed her after a month or so of weekly visits there to join (ideally) or observe (less so) group activities in a well-intentioned attempt to acclimate her to her new home before the move. It still did not go well.
I had begged EAS to schedule the move for November, when I DON'T have baseball or RenFest going on, but she does things when they are convenient for her, and damn the torpedoes. "You won't need to do anything; I'll take care of moving her. " I don't know whether she believed that or only told me that. It's hard to know. At some point in the last 5 years (and I've known her for 50) I made myself face the fact that she lies to me to get me to cooperate, or at least stop arguing with her.
Anyway. Future posts may include The Three Day Turkey Dinner, A Great Disturbance In The Force, Turducken vs Churkendoose, Four Days In New Orleans, Train Museums And When To Find Them, How To Travel With Your Addled Elder, Kindness Of Strangers, Soft And Fuzzy Things, The Library and Playing Ball.
Actual titles may vary.
