Thank you

Thank you for sending me flowers, thank you for chocolate cookies, thank you for dropping the cassoulet off on my porch. And for spicy lasagna and guasacaca sauce. Thank you for soft striped robes, and suede slippers. Thank you for your phone calls and texts and words. 

Susan has brought me guasacaca twice and I love it. Here's a description from a food website:

"Guasacaca is probably one of the finest sauces ever invented. It has a cool name that rolls off the tongue and a taste that makes your mouth go ñum ñum! 

It's a simple but staggeringly tasty combination of avocado, fresh parsley and coriander, green bell pepper, onion, garlic, salt, oil and vinegar."

True.

And thanks for super fancy chips. For jokes. Hugs. Laughing. Inappropriate gossip and rudeness - I love it. For making me a nest. For walking to HEB to get groceries. Thank you to my friends and family for beautiful cards with hilarious stories in them. Thank you for telling me your awful stories, they make me feel better. 

Here's my favorite dreadful rotten bunglebottom story from recent weeks, that caused me to feel extremely happy:

Exhibit A: Tall, beautiful, successful, yoga instructor, Marin County wife and owner of the coolest house complete with bees, chickens, a gorgeous garden and lovely art - Hillary Culhane, one of my BFFs from a long time ago - living the California dream in beautiful Larkspur California - jewel of Marin County. The Bay Area home of the best and brightest, the most together, coolest, and hip moms in the entire US of A. First day of school. Not only has this attractive mom gotten her two children up, dressed adorably, washed, and breakfasted, she gets them into the car on time to drive into their two schools. First and fifth grade cute as a cupcake kids. Because Hillary is so extremely organized and wonderful herself, we can see sitting by the front door two brand-new J.Crew backpacks, ALREADY packed with everything they need - bursting with delicious food, sharpened pencils, glistening white fresh paper ready for brilliance - ready to go, looking fresh-n-snazzy, monogrammed and all.  The very next manifestation of the height of maternal perfection. Sitting next to those backpacks, are two healthfully packed lunches (What, sushi perhaps? Home made muffins?) in brand-new adorable lunch bags, that are also beautifully monogrammed. 

Off to school, lickety-split, back home in a jiffy. EARLY as a matter o fact! But wait! Mama has forgotten the backpacks and lunch boxes, oh well, plenty of time to ferry them back to school… but no! 

The adorable/horrid little dog, Butterfly, a teeny tiny monster that scares away councilmen, postman, and adults alike, has eaten and shredded and ruined and trashed all four new monogrammed expensive pristine unused objects and their contents. Bad Butterfly! Again!

Now, I don't seriously suffer from an obsessive case of schadenfreude, it's really more that I love to hear that we are all in this thing called life together, this rickety boat, hanging on inside our little walnut shell in the gutter as it goes down down down. It goes with my whole thing about entropy and chaos, and it helps me remember, again and again and again and again and again, that we don't really have much control. This makes me feel better, like I'm not alone.

Disclaimer: I may have added some details to the Butterfly story that are not exactly accurate, I wasn't there, and when Hillary told me the story we were both laughing so much that I probably couldn't hear very well. That's what I love about Hillary. She's perfect. For me.

Thank you friends.