As promised, a new and exciting title to this post! I am looking forward to seeing how many new readers I get with this title, it should drag them in like flies on barbeque sauce!
What's new? What did I promise you last night? Winning the lottery rings a bell but that was a lie. Work situation is so boring that I can't bear to discuss it right now, maybe lower on the page. The first Mother's Day when my Mom was dead? That could be sad and teary except that it wasn't. For a second or two the week before that Sunday, I was sure I forgot to get a Mother's Day card and mail it, until I realized that even if I did forget, it didn't matter! I felt bad for my sister Kate because for the past ten years she and her daughter had taken Mom out for Mother's Day brunch at a winery on the Delta that they all loved and I know that day was tough for Kate. But for me, it was fine. Mom lived a long life, I always called her on every Sunday, of course, but I hadn't visited Mom on Mom's day for ..... like 25 years since I always work on Sundays.
OK, work: finally I have had enough crap at the lovely boutique hotel in Glen Ellen and have cut my hours down to just Saturday and Sunday (and a Monday now and then.) Now I have three days at the Pt. Reyes Country Inn, where I have worked off and on for the past 20 years. It's a simple, clear, busy job and the drive out there at 6:15 in the morning is busier than you might imagine but lovely. It's costing me more in gas and wear and tear on the car, of course, and the hours are less, but the peace of mind is a lot better. No more power trips dealing with fellow workers who are Ricardo Cabeza clones, no more dealing with people who think money is a form of entitlement. The guests at the inn are equally challenged in many ways (guests always are, no matter where) but at least they are less pricey about it, and they usually have their horses to deal with instead of their "where should I go to drink today" agenda. For this season it will be fine. Next year, who knows. I might win that friggin lottery and be free of all bosses. But as Bob Dylan has pointed out, everyone has to serve somebody. Boss or bank or bourbon or babes, we all answer to someone.
In case you wondered, I did not set trees on fire last night grilling my steak and it was perfect. It will serve me well tonight on a bed of greens with some blue cheese and a nice lemon vinaigrette or I may leave off the blue cheese and use my homemade Green Goddess dressing on the salad. Yummm....
I sincerely hope to get some comments about the lack of Bourbon, Babes or Beans in this blog. "Beans and babes are my favorite pastimes and bourbon is my favorite drink but hardly any mention of them in your writing and what you said made no sense. What's with that? Bourbon, babes and beans are what's gonna make America great again! Bring on the b's and add to those three some more like bacon and butter and boobs and boots! And bees because we like honey and bandaids because we have trouble with knives and beer, how can I forget beer and barbeque." Oh, I only wish.
Or not.
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