I have officially moved and am now in the process of address changes for services, credit cards, magazines, the whole enchilada. This morning drove Big Daddy to the brink with a cell phone company that has internal problems with its automated customer service. I usually use an expletive or two, and repeat “REAL PERSON” till they finally come back with, “ do you need an agent?”. Yes, you automated twit! Enough of that, just let me go on about the moving process.
Good Lord, please, even if you’re a young person, clean out! Please learn how to give away, re-gift, donate, toss, shred, share with a friend, charity, or your church’s bazaar… this is a MUST!! I find myself unpacking things I wish I’d never packed in the first place. I fretted the china, crystal, antique bric-a-brac, and all that entails. I broke a Limoges plate, sorry, Mom. Since it already had a crack, and since it can’t go in the dishwasher, it went adios in the trash, no tears shed. The only thing I HAVE fretted is the one pottery coffee mug I just can’t find. Oops!!!
So I’ve learned to let go, Big Daddy hasn’t. I packed for six weeks, Big Daddy packed for 6 days. He still has “stuff” at the old house, and can’t seem to part with shoes that he isn’t even able to wear.
As I unpacked my old friends (pots and pans), I began to develop that sense of home, new home, that is, and waited to have the opportunity to cook on … egads, an electric cooktop! That has been an experience. I miss the quickness of turning off the heat, turning on the heat, and oh my, the bliss of simmer. I’ve learned to love my oak cabinets, I changed the hardware to black to match my appliances, and missing my big white kitchen and stainless steel appliances is lessening every day. Big Daddy came out the ultimate winner in the kitchen, because his beloved microwave has its own little house, and he no longer has to venture to the laundry room to heat up anything.
I’ve made redneck spaghetti, no bean Jane Henry Chili, and have all the ingredients for gumbo, just waiting for the time to do it. So, the panty is being restocked, as well as the freezer, and we’re waiting for the really good weather to come rolling in so we can fish off the dock, and enjoy refreshments in the boathouse.
Cypress trees on Lake Chicot
For a town of less than 3,000 people, there are lovely restaurants here, so many with wonderful heritages and stories to share, and proprietors who admonish us to not frequent them so much that we get burned out and don’t return! Amazing, or what?? It’s also a town with a rich ethnic heritage, Italian, Chinese, Mexican, and of course, it’s a town with many churches. I found out there’s a health and wellness center, funded by a grant, free of charge to citizens, with Pilates, spin classes, yoga. And everyone is just so nice, I don’t mean, because they just met you, I mean heart and soul nice, good women interested in you, and what you do, and “I understand you cook!” I love that last remark, and I say, come cook with me, would love to get to know you and your family, thanks for asking me out with you, thanks for letting me use your phone since I’ve locked myself out of my house, thanks for becoming a part of my new life.
I’m still rearranging some pots and pans, vases, the pantry, every day brings at least one little adjustment to the kitchen, so it’s a work in progress, so to speak. I’m learning the local grocery and where locals shop for specialty items, like the Buck Stop in Monticello, AR that sells the best steaks and sausage, and the Amish Store right up the road that has fabulous baked goods. I can put my hands on rotisserie chicken at the Sunflower, and I hear there’s a great farmers market in the spring and summer. Life can, is, and will be, oh so delicious!
More to come from living and dining on the lake……………..
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