Working at Scott’s house keeps me from feeling isolated. He’s in and out all day juggling his business, family and barbecue. His latest endeavor includes recruiting a very fit friend to act as his personal trainer. He says this is an effort to make sure he remains able to kick Nick’s butt; however, he admitted that it also has to do with his “Popeye before the spinach” arms. The fact that Buffy is so beautiful and fit may be a bit of incentive.
Buffy’s a teacher at one of the grade schools where, for the most part, teachers look like models. It’s a good thing that, by the time the boys reach puberty, they’ve transferred to a different school tier. Otherwise, I’m sure they’d never be able to concentrate on anything other than their teachers’ appearance. I’ve never known so many people obsessed with looking lean while living large. Maybe living so close to the beach does that for a body. Who wants to put a bikini over rolls of revolting cellulite?
Scott woke up and announced that we were expecting a beautiful day. When I pointed out that the last forecast I’d heard was for two more days of rain, he replied, “We aren’t going to get any more days of that wimpy drizzle that we had yesterday. We’re going to have golf ball size hail and tornadoes. We could die! It’ll be so nice for the kids and their teachers. It’s testing week, and they’ll be spending their day with threats of having to sit in the hallways with their heads between their legs. That ought to be fun for their teachers.” Scott certainly loves to generate excitement.
It seems that no matter where I am, the weather is encouraging me to stay focused on my writing. Josie emailed me that with all my blogging about what we eat, she could envision a cookbook coming out of my computer. How nice that I got this email as I sat working on adding recipes to match my blog entries.
Josie also bemoaned the change in the personality of Coker Creek with the loss of Frank Murphy, the unofficial “mayor of Coker Creek,” last October, and the change in ownership of a very popular gallery, among other unwelcome changes. The horrible winter weather hasn’t helped. It’s much easier to mourn when we’re stuck inside. She also mentioned that the first sign of spring is showing in Jack’s bank of daffodils, proving there’s always new life waiting in the wings of our despondence. Maybe a period of grief is just what we need to clear the way for a new path in life.
I’ve done plenty of cooking here in Mississippi. If I stay around much longer, Buffy and Scott might set me to cleaning – and we know how much I’d hate that. I may have to move to another area of the Gulf Coast and spread the “cuisine du corpulence” around a bit.