Caterwauling

Not for nothing but I just made some bomb ass autumn chili and jalapeño cornbread.

The recipe needs work. But for memory’s sake…

Pound of ground turkey, seasoned heavily with salt, pepper and poultry seasoning

Stewed tomatoes with hatch chiles

An extra can of hatch chiles

Cannelini beans

Can of pumpkin

Yellow corn

Black beans (I think? I don’t remember)

S&P (not Standard & Poor’s)

Cream of tartar

Pumpkin pie spice

Ginger

Red bell pepper seasoning (I should have cut up the peppers in the fridge for bite/texture)

I think that’s it. Fry up the meat. Dump it all in a stock pot. Voila.

I had a bowl with yellow corn tortilla chips and some Cholula cheese from Sargento. Very good but the beans needed some more time to steam.

Had another bowl two hours later with warm jalapeño cornbread. (Make cornbread. Add jalapeños and cheddar.)

Perfection.

And you know you’re living single if you can shove a whole freaking pot in the fridge and have plenty of room to spare.

Called my freelancer at the crack o’ me this morning. As one does.

He had sent the file I needed on Friday. But it never arrived.

So he resent it this morning. And of course we got to talking about everything but.

He’s 57 and single. I’m 51 and single. And we had some fun moments comparing stories over coffee today.

A comedian recently did a bit that said it’s not that being single is hard. It’s dating.

Both of us are filled with wanderlust. Owned by pets. Financial analysts. Writers. Traders. People with insatiable appetites for wine, good food and other pleasures.

We got to talking about how he’s saved so much money from not dating, he’s doing a trip to Europe.

I got to saying my travel buddy can’t make it to my upcoming trip to (X) and (Y).

So I said fuck it, added a day at the beginning and end, and I’m shoving two days at Z in the middle. Because I can.

Like sure, we both agreed it would be nice to have someone along. Someone to make decisions with. But, not necessary at this point.

The thing with both of us is that we want to leave our current places. But neither of us knows where to go. And we almost need someone to give us direction.

He’s going through the ailing parent thing. Which I am not about to touch with a 10-foot pole, for any man.

As T&T said to me recently (no not Taylor and Travis, but close), they respect me knowing that boundary and not negotiating it.

Taking care of my Momma and doing All the Stuff was hard but worth it. Because it was my Momma.

But I do not want to care for some guy’s parents that way. Even if the care is simply just Caring and not doing all the Stuff. Dealbreaker.

He was telling me about dating among his big friend group there. Which he may or may not leave behind once the parental stage has come to its natural end.

And I told him about some ghosts who follow me around.

Not in the good Momma ghost way.

But the way in which, if you aren’t careful who you give your energy to, they could become a poltergeist.

He’s like yeah, single life all the way.

In any event, Taylor Swift’s new album comes out Friday and I have a ticket to (theater name) to listen to it with all my new Swiftie besties.

One of the songs is “Ruin the Friendship.”

Some Swifties speculate that it’s about Blake Lively because unfortunately there’s a subset of our fandom that votes red and therefore has no fucking clue about women supporting women. (That’s the mother of Taylor’s four god-children, you nuts.)

In any event, I don’t know what it’s about. But I’m of the attitude that friendships are worth “ruining” for the relationship. It’s either going to deepen it or end it.

And for me, I’d rather know sooner.

I waited all weekend for one of my freelancers to send a file.

It never arrived. And yes, I checked my spam.

I did find a sweet surprise in my spam though. Micah! I am so glad you said hello. We DC Bloggers are the best humans. Sending love right back to you!

So I said fuck it and had my Saturday pool/Ross day. Where I had all those signs from Momma.

I did the same Sunday, but headed to Coral Springs to Ross-hop.

Had a few more surprising surprises.

At the second Ross — Mom’s and my favorite, despite (for her) and because of (for me) me falling on my ass in the crosswalk — the door opened automatically.

This is one of those old Rosses where you still use door handles.

Like … IT OPENED when I walked up to it.

I walked five steps in, smiling.

When … and I can’t even believe I saw this with my own eyes … a cart dislodged itself from the corral.

That cart rolled backward and stopped right in front of me.

Dude. There was not a breeze. Not another living soul around for 5 yards in any direction.

So … she opened the door and gave me a cart in the same minute.

Oh but wait, Shamwow fans. There’s more.

I also hit a couple TJ Maxxes.

At the first one, I found the cutest fucking shirt that said, “Look What You Made Me Brew.”

LWYMMD is one of my favorite songs on earth.

Problem was, they only had an XL and I was swimming in it.

Searched the whole store for another, to no avail.

Went to another TJs.

Found two cute shirts, but not that one. I said OK Momma, if it’s here, walk me to it.

I — well, WE! — found the shirt where we didn’t expect it to be at all.

It’s a very perfect-fitting medium.

Like, I would have been happy with an L and that’s what I was hoping for.

But the M fit even better than the two L tops I bought with it.

So, as ever, Momma knows. She knows what I want and what I need, and she managed to get me both.

I’m normally not a medium in real life. But I really felt her absolutely everywhere, laughing with me at all the stupid jokes I haven’t said out loud in years.

It was a good weekend.

The best.

“I had the best day with you today,” Momma. Thank you for that!

“You can say there’s no such thing as Santa.
But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.”

Anyone who doesn’t believe there’s a veil and they are on the other side of it … bye.