Hey ho, how goes it out there? We had a rip roaring weekend of good times: music for money, music for fun, yummy food, brunch with friends, some Hitchcock, some quality chicken petting time, an afternoon warm enough for ice cream just as we happened to be passing our favorite ice cream shop. The music for money was the most fun I’ve had yet playing for a microphone. Acoustic and I can pretend we are lifting the ceiling off the living room, but microphones make me itchy and I swear I have yet to play a gig where I can hear the guitar player, but this weekend at least I heard the bass, woo-hoo.
And then: back to work. I hate to use this space to complain because my life is one plummy life, but I am not digging my new work situation. I am spending way too much time trying to figure out what about it is me and what about it is not. For the last many years I have definitely questioned my dedication to being a librarian. Or anything else that sits in front of a computer all day. I crave work that feels more like work to me; something outside, something with my hands, something where there’s less talking about doing things and more doing of them. I wish there was the time in the day for me to spend some of it working on a farm so that I could reality check my belief that I would be happier doing something like that, but right now I am putting in long hours and it’s a feat to just get dinner made before we both eat the table. I know this is finite; someday B will finish grad school and we will have a whole new set of options related to keeping us afloat. This week it just seems a long way off and I am tempted to keep riding right past the university each morning. (Aside: Asheville is out of gas. Or something like that. Gas stations seem to get one grade of gas for about three hours a day and everyone and their brother lines up around the block about 9 times for it. I find stuff like this terrifying and kind of exciting. I know that I can’t even imagine how drastically our life would change without the current resource access and I know that it’s very likely that any big changes will probably be uncomfortable. But I also probably wouldn’t have to stare at a computer all day anymore.)
Ok, on to more exciting things. How ‘bout those leeks up there? They are not the fattest leeks you've ever met, but they are looooong and so flavorful. They were dug up for potato leek soup with fresh corn, and thyme. The soup was supposed to have bacon in it, but I forgot to buy any so I just sautéed all the veggies in bacon fat. Fabulous. We have this big jar in the fridge that we dump bacon grease into and I like to joke that when the shit hits the fan it will be worth a fortune. Anyway, actually using some of it made me think about other things to do with it and now I am obsessed with popping popcorn in bacon fat. When I first proposed this to B he was like, “Umm, but our popcorn is already really good with butter” and he looked kind of terrified. And I was like “No goose, we wouldn’t put bacon grease ON the popcorn, we’d POP the popcorn in bacon grease.” I got a tacit ok on that and I will report back. (Note: yes, the blue background above is the extremely bizarre exterior of our home. We are going to paint the house silver so that it looks like one big truck bed tread. Just kidding. Someday we will win the lottery and do something exciting to it.)