Pax vobiscum

Well, we made it through the holidays. I had some flat moments, hunkering down, waiting for Real Life (if that's what this is) to be reinstituted. But there was also fun. Word play, lots of that. Puns. Yup. Sometime even funny, not just oh, groan funny. Lots of good will floating around and us moving in whatever you call a group of five - quintet? - through one eating venue or another. As much like family as it will ever be.
One night we went to an Argentinian meat restaurant. There's a salad bar and then there are people waltzing around with huge hunks of meat on skewers, carving it showily at tableside. I would guess that each of us ate more meat at one meal that night than any of us ever has before. It felt very decadent.

Meanwhile, my friend with esophogeal cancer which went undiagnosed after a recent Pet scan because it looked to the genius who read the scan like scar tissue, has been in and out of emergency care and losing weight like a speed freak because she can't breathe and can't eat. And she wants to stay alive for awhile, to get to know her brand new grandson.
I want her to stay alive because I like her and value her company. And because we are chicks together, not old ladies, not helpless, not ready to be dismissed. For a long time, we have had each other's backs. Our favorite thing to do is drink wine and laugh.

Pippa, my darling grandgirl, turned ten this week. Double digits. Celebrated by going to see Peewee Herman, which she loved. Will celebrate further in a week with a party of friends and a present karaoke set up. several of her friends are in a Girl Pop performing group with her. Others are part of the Brooklyn kids' chorus. When I was ten, I broke my wrist, showing off how I could ride no-handed on my big Schwinn bike. At school, we sang "When will this hike be over" and the prayer from "Hansel and Gretel". (When at night I go to sleep. . .) My piano teacher favored Grieg and Mozart.

One of these days, I'll be back on track.