Georgia taught me how lovely it is to start each day fresh. So I try, when I am sufficiently on point, to put away the dishes and wipe down the counters at the end of each night. She did this every single night, virtually without fail, and I don’t understand HOW because I am just me, B and Ginger, and I don’t often manage to accomplish this! And there she was with two homeschooled girls, an award winning garden, an immaculate home, and gourmet meals on the table virtually every night. Those who must be away from home that evening would have their meal pre-packed in a microwaveable porcelain dish (no BPA for Georgia’s family) or could select an equivalently nutritious (and always delicious!) homemade entree from the freezer – packed and labeled in advance of just such an occasion.
Dear God, that poor woman. I’m tired just thinking about it.
That just is NOT me! But mostly because B has demonstrated and affirmed the absurdity of a grown man unable to prepare a simple, flavorful meal for himself without assistance. Now he and I prepare our meals together most nights – except those where he makes mine cuz I’m too excited telling him about my day to stay focused on food.
When Georgia stopped taking on the roll of chef to Royalty and started saying, “I’m not making dinner tonight, and there aren’t any great leftovers but you can make a salad or a panini” the family balked – in spite of the fact that the fridge was always packed with the best cheeses, greens, gourmet condiments etc to make this as easy as possible.
Eventually they grudgingly managed to feed themselves, after countless hands-on tutorials. But they were secretly counting the marks against my sanity, apparently. Although in my opinion this was the first sane thing I had done in years!
Sorry, I was talking about things she had taught me… I get off on these rants when I think about how she allowed herself to be consistently underappreciated and USED! Well, there ya go. One of the most important things she taught me is that I shouldn’t take any shit because people who want to dish it out will dish it till I’m buried six feet under if I take so much as an ounce.
Shit makes for a very slippery slope and when it gets too deep the only escape is Death and Rebirth.