The colors of her world

I wait to see the picture she posts.
The big green tea cup with honey and milk
and that whole grain bread with what I imagine to be butter, jam and a slice of good stinking cheese.
Oh I am hungry, always hungry, always craving, somebody else's toast and tea.
An imagined inner calmness which I can never find.
The knowledge of being, of being at peace within.
She only writes a few sentences that speak of design and simple day tasks, nothing much, really, nothing to expose the innards, yet she has the talent to convey so much in a simple picture.
Not all of them, I have no patience for pictures of view, of white winters somewhere far from here, Nature's beauty bores me to tears. But when she posts a cup of tea and the little bag of Finish cookies beside it on her simple table in her simple tasteful home, I just want to die in peace.
There is not simplicity in my life, even though I too live in simple home and I too love my simple home. Every corner in my little home captures so much beauty I could ever ask for more in my daily picture.
But my home is not mine, and my life is apt to change. At any give moment i expect the rug of stability to be pulled from under my feet and everything I have called my life will change abruptly.
That's how it is for me. And for a homebody Torus that 's enough to shake every cell of security I don't posses even before it ever actually happens.
I am in a place of extreme financial duress, everything we have done and worked so hard for has brought this family to this place.
And looking at the path we have chosen, although unconventional and stubborn, no doubt, I have to admit that some lives are simply not blessed with luck in certain respects, period.
Money never came my way, no matter what I did. It apparently was to be my curse.
So now I brace myself, trying to adjust my brain to the make friends with the change and instability that is about to befall my way. Me, a mother of two who will have to some how feed and bed two children who holey depend on my for their every breath.
Really it is due to the light in the cold land where she lives. It is the light which allows for that sombre yet alluring flavor, a hue, a glow.
I know it, still, even though I don't really want to live there, to me it is so delicious.
It is raining to day. very befitting of my gloomy mood, but we will be alright, I know it.
Somewhere along the way luck will finally find us, there is enough out there and I only ask for a little.
But in the meantime it's time to make those Olive Oil muffins (a recipe I've been dying to make for a while now). I can see the picture I'm gonna take already, of one half bitten muffin with crumbs on the plate and a big mug of green tea with honey and milk on the side. I will describe the sweet savory flavor meticulously. I promise. :-).

Down in Little Tokyo.
A favorite restaurant of ours in little Japan is a simple unpretentious dive that serves up a mix of Japanese and Chinese favorite dishes.
We ordered Pork Ramen a beef chow main with vegetables and a side dish of vegetable Gyoza.

It's been a rough start of new year.
My new cell phone fell into the washing machine and died.
And all the prototype designs we were waiting on were delayed for what seemed like forever.
Nothing had began with the New Year and again we scrambled for rent.
But going out to eat in another world of food and culture made me feel new to myself and forget about my troubles completely (almost).
Finally today some of our designs arrived and they look so pretty that I got my hopes all up and going once again.
It amazes me how just what goes on in your head can make one day sunny and the other hopeless and gray. But then again, I even love gray days, so it's truly all how you look at it, right?



When we got home I made dessert,
I had made Olive Oil Yogurt cake the day before and now I added a quickly whipped a sauce from frozen blueberries and sour cream - delicious.














I'm determined to keep it sweet.
So what if things did not start at all gloriously,
They could still turn around and this will prove to be a good year after all, right? Right.

Wednesday evening.

Morning steel cut Irish oats.
We eat every day.
Wylder looooves it, Georgia, on and off.
I looove it and so does Daniel.



We never made it out of the house to buy the ingridients for the boeuf bourguignon yesterday.
We never left the house.
I worked on my blog and took a long bath in the evening, I like to take baths on swimming days when my chlorinated skin feels like its crawling with drying bugs.
It was the kind of day I have come to appreciate, much to the chagrin of Georgia who is always hopping and skipping and bouncing off the couches, as opposed to her brother who is a much calmer fella.

So today we finally went out, to shop fir the great dish we are planning to eat tomorrow night, Xmas eve. This after watching the movie "Julie and Julia" last week. Georgia was ready to cook Boeuf Bourgeinion as soon as the movie was over.
Wt can not afford to eat out usually, (and nothing new today) ,but we are always looking for very reasonable good places to go which might almost compare with eating at home. Today we headed for a place we found out about which serves fresh Vietnamese fare. After a meltdown on Wylder's part (he was going going mid day no nap crisis. Some scenes ensued (but we only go to noisy and casual places these days), finally we settled down into our meal, Wylder included and there was peace for 10 minutes (we eat fast these days).
The food was simple and fresh and light and even Wylder, who would rather skip a meal for a green apple any time, ate well. I wish I had my camera, to take pictures. Next time, I promise.
Our financial wows have to do with more than the economy at this point in time,. but this being only my second post I shall leave the troubles for another time - perhaps.

Then when we reached the Farmers' Market for our favorite butcher, some scenes with Georgia who is trying to have us buy an ever growing list of things whenever we go anywhere. (The list might include anything from ice cream to donuts moving on to fake snow flake powder, webkinz and so on and so forth you name it etc. and finally shopping for food.
I lost it along the way and raised my voice more than once (to put it mildly).
We got home exhausted as usual,
Ready to attack the making of . . .(such a long name) it turned out that the beef only needed to be put in a red wine marinate with herbs and vegetables, there was no cooking to be done tonight (as the beef needs to marinate over night) Georgia's was greatly disappointed, but we enjoyed a glass of wine and got in the mood with "Alone" by Heart, watched all the versions of it on YouTube and read a chapter of Enola Holmes Mystery. She is Sherlock's 14 year old sister clearly on her way to making one very sharp detective. I love reading well written books (usually British) to Georgia. Despite her twisting and wiggling every which way looking for any possible distraction, I managed to get through a chapter and look up some words in the dictionary together. Georgia has been a reader since the age of 3, but getting her to sit her scrawny butt down and get into a book is no easy feat. In any case, this book would be too much for her and I enjoy reading it myself.
Later, much, afater Georgia and Wylder finally went to bed we had Balance Ball  late night sex. Calm and stretched out from the inside out I went to bed, but Daniel stayed up as usual, designing on the computer until 3am.
There is no end to the places and positions to be found in our small adobe and that's not to say the bedroom is out of bounds just because two kids are sleeping there. But that's for another post, perhaps.
And tomorrow, swimming in the early Am and Boeuf Bourguinon in the early afternoon and everything in between.
Good nite.