See Me and Simy
The thing about September is this: it cannot decide if it is summer or fall. Like a good mullet, it is fall in the mornings and summer in the afternoons, so that by evening you are all mixed up.
So many things to love about this time of year, peaches, mums and (my favorite) dahlias, but the split personality? The dramatic daily spikes in temperature? It shakes my delicate core.
This cold morning I slummed around taking bites of oatmeal-sprinkled-yogurt while looking for something I couldn't find. Then I remembered it was my courage. I couldn't find my courage. Even when the pregnancy-controlled contraption decided oatmeal-sprinkled-yogurt back up the shoot (that was me trying to be poetic about puking) I couldn't find the courage to calm myself down.
Then I remembered 11:30 was lunch at Simy's house.
I love lunch at Simy's house!
And Lucy was invited too.
Simy (SEE-ME) is a gift, to me from God. He sent her into my life to teach me many great and wonderful things. Mostly about food. And, as I have previously posted, I am a needy eater.
Sometimes I will get a chocolate tart on my doorstep, or a invite to an early afternoon lunch from my thoughtful neighbor. She tells me about growing up in Hong Kong, or loving her four beautiful children, or her devotion to Industrial Design. And I feel so comfortable around her, she's wonderfully open-minded and doesn't spend too much time forming unstoppable opinions. I find her simply enjoyable.
This afternoon she served Lucy and me a lunch full of taste and texture. At one point she spread bits of blue cheese on a piece of bread and smeared it with honey.
"Ever tried this?" she asked.
Lucy and I just sat staring at her like we were her devoted disciples.
"Fix my bread like hers." Lucy commanded of me while staring at Simy, her hands busy holding Betsy.
For desert she fed us lava brownies and homemade malt ice cream. I looked at Lucy and she was laughing as she ate. I was sent home with some bulgogi beef and rice for Chup and my leftover brownie. I was careful not to eat too much. I didn't trust that pregnancy-controlled contraption. And I ain't my losing dessert.
By the time we walked home, it was hot. Lucy and I raced down the street with our babies bumping along the way. I thought about what I asked Simy before we left.
"You are so good to me. What can I do for you?"
"Keep writing." she said.
So Simy, this post is for you.
Thanks for making this indecisive September day a splendid one.
Next post: How we became pregnant this time around. Did you hear? We're pregnant. And the hot topic in my email inbox is how? Besides the obvious, I will tell you my theory.
And, for those living in Provo and environs: please do me a favor and visit my Provo blog. I just posted about Friday night entertainment/date options. It took me seven hours to compose the post. Just give me the satisfaction of looking at it, maybe even caress it through the computer screen. Is that too much to ask?