Lazy Jane

I love Shel Silverstein, especially his poem "Lazy Jane." For those of you who don't know how it goes, let me enlighten you:

Lazy
Lazy
Lazy
Lazy
Lazy
Lazy
Jane.
She
wants
a
drink
of
water
so
she
waits
and
waits
and
waits
and
waits
and
waits
for
it
to
rain.

In a nutshell, that was my weekend. It seems like Marc and I have been going 100 miles per hour lately, and this was the first weekend in a long time where we didn't have anything formally planned (except dinner at a friend's house on Sunday...and I wasn't cooking, so that didn't really count). On Friday night, we hit the Thai Cafe for dinner and then headed home to watch Network, the 1976 film featuring Faye Dunaway, William Holden, Peter Finch, and Robert Duvall. Even if you haven't seen it, you know of it...it's the film that includes the famous line, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!" Now that we've "fallen back" with Daylight Savings Time, it seems like it's much later than it really is. When we were driving home from dinner, I told Marc that I felt like it was 10:00 even though it was really seven. By the time the DVD ended at 10:00, it felt like it was midnight (which is, ashamedly, past my bedtime). So we turned in for the night.

On Saturday, we hit the road for a visit to Kokomo to see my family. It was chilly day and kind of gloomy...perfect for sacking out on the couch , which was exactly what we did at my parents' house for the entire day. It was nice, though, to just sit around and catch up since we hadn't been up for a visit since September! (Shame on us...like I said, we have been extra busy.) I baked a pan of brownies to satisfy my chocolate craving. And when dinner time rolled around, I offered to make the sweet potato soup that I love so much. Nevermind that I've made this soup several times...I somehow managed to completely forget the first four or five steps of the recipe, leaving us with 3 1/2 pounds of boiled sweet potatoes and nothing to do with them. My mom said she might freeze them and make a casserole later. I felt so bad! They joked that if I didn't really want to cook, I should have just said something. We ended up ordering pizza, and after about three pieces, I had miraculously forgotten all about the bisque incident.

I brought a bag of dog clothes that Judy's dog, Cooper, willed down to my parents' new puppy, Barnum. He gladly put on a little fashion show for us, displaying how chic he looked in his new sherpa-lined corduroy overcoat. Bailey, my parents' first-born and dearest dog son, was less obliging when it came to trying on the new duds. When we strapped him into the Isaac Mizrahi doggy trenchcoat, he pouted in the middle of the room and refused to pose for pictures. I always love to spend time at my folks' house, and it was a really great visit.

Sunday, we managed to arrive at church just as it was starting. Marc's mom and dad were joining us that day, and they called to see where we were. Marc said he was surprised that they beat us there, but I reminded him [as we stood in our kitchen] that church was starting in approximately two minutes. I've come to realize that living so close to the church can be both good and bad. Bad, because we tend to let ourselves sleep in too late; and good, because it only takes half of a second to get there. After church, we had lunch with Marc's parents and then headed home to watch the Colts almost get spanked by the Buffalo Bills. I think I lasted until the third quarter before I drifted off to nap-land. Later that evening, it was off to the dinner party and the absolutely wonderful Black Bottom Banana Cream Pie that Jack made for dessert. It was quite a way to cap off a weekend.

So I guess that for two people who had nothing planned, Marc and I still ended up with plenty to do!