I couldn’t have predicted my adventish anticipation for January 20th. Inauguration is also the 100th day of school for my children and both their schools are planning celebrations. Plus, Arizona just made it to the Superbowl. Additionally, I just adore my friends. I have spectacular friends. My friends are great because they give me stuff. Good stuff. Stuff I bet you wish you had. A la la la.
Magical Martha, who can make anything happen and does, gave me lemons from her tree. Not only that, she gave me freshly squozen lemon juice and promises of a rockin’ lemonade recipe. THEN, our neighbors dropped by with more lemons. We are flush with the fruit. OMG! I want to make lemon everything! Got a good recipe?
Next up is the tale of my own greed and gluttony. A member of my book club, whose hubby heads up some biodiesel group here in town, gets fry grease from local restaurants and turns it into gas in their backyard for her car. The byproduct of this process is glycerin. Yup. Soap. They’ve packaged it as Grease Monkey soap and I think they should totally make it a commercial venture. I’m so in awe of this process because the oil was 1) used to cook food, 2) used to power a car, and 3) used to wash up, which means that it’s used, reused, and rereused with NO WASTE LEFT OVER. When her book club holiday exchange gift was Grease Monkey soap, well, I sorta threw a hissy fit. “I want some!” She’s a better person than I am (let’s face it, most people are), and made more soap – enough for our whole group.
And not related to my friends who are generous, I just want to do a quick shout out to Robyn. If you don’t know her, you should. Life would be gray and dull without her. I know this unequivocally. I watched her sew today and that was, it was, the penultimate.
Wanna know what I give my friends? NOTHING! HA! Suck it! Perhaps I should feel badly that I inspire such generosity without being generous myself – but I don’t! So, while some look at their buddies and wonder “what have they done for me lately?”, I’m going to suck a lemon, take a shower, and call Robyn to schedule a Superbowl clatch.