Breather

I've been over-wound like a clock spring lately.  It has made me less productive, instead of energetic.  Thankfully, Sweetie remedied that by taking me out of town for a couple of days.  We had an errand, but mostly it was a chance to decompress.  Getting out of town actually wound things up a couple of pops and driving tired (not sleepy) didn't help, especially in city traffic.  I don't think the relief began to reveal itself until we found ourselves sitting in the shade outside Panda Express, with full stomachs and a little time on our hands.

From the patio we could see the still snow covered Wasatch in all it's glory.  The air was cool, clear and gentle.  We were far enough south in Salt Lake Valley that we could see Lady Timpanogos lying peacefully off by herself.  Somehow her majesty comforts me from every angle.  She speaks of independence, solitude, peace, and assurance.

We had already stopped by Barnes and Noble and selected a couple of books.  From there we'd headed up Mill Creek to find a shady spot to read while the stream burbled by.  Instead we found congestion, distraction and the creek roaring in fury.  The biggest distraction was a man who'd taken his five year old down the water to play.  This after four children have already drown in the heavy spring runoff.  Too tired, too distracted to read we gave up quite earlier than we'd expected.  Funny how sitting beside a busy street with stomachs full of plump shrimp and luscious chicken we found what we'd sought in the "wilderness."

At Mark's we were primed to kick back in his overstuffed recliners, and mutter our contentment around an episode of Blue Bloods.  A rerun we hadn't seen, amazingly!

Then, it was early to bed, exhausted, in his cool basement, where I slept through the night for the first time in months.  (It's 2:43 AM right now.  Yup, I'm back home and up in the night.  Bad dream about self torture.  Not in the mood to make interpretations.  So I thought I go back a day to decompress some more while the memories are still fresh.)

We slept in much of the morning.  Sweetie longer than I.  Long enough for me to get hooked on Amy Tan's wonderful The Hundred Secret Senses; making me wonder if I'm carrying the load of generations, not just my own.

We grabbed a quick bite at Wendy's which miraculously was near a fabric store with good prices on fat quarters.  Sweetie only selected four.  She's so much more moderate than I.

I have quite recently discovered that my great great grandmother Maria Weber came to the States from Switzerland along with my great grand parents.  I had always supposed she'd stayed in the old country as her husband did.  After traveling to Michigan, Ontario and Quebec seeking the graves of my predecessors I have thought it silly not to have visited Maria's.  We drove to the Salt Lake Cemetery, which I had not seen before as it lies up in the Avenues, off the beaten track.  A lovely place it is.  The clerk in the Sexton's office was wonderfully helpful and set me promptly on a course to discover her headstone.  A simple little marker calls her Mary and indicates she lived from 1822 until 1903.  She appears to be buried next to her daughter Eliza.  More on that it a separate post.  Give me a couple of days.  I've got to get some sleep and a funeral taken care of.

On the way to cemetery we stopped at Les Madeline's for some Kouey Amans and as usual, they were sold out.  We did grab a couple of raspberry buttons and two rosemary cookies for the road though.  Without much more ado we headed up the canyon for home intending to stop in Heber for lunch.  Steve had informed us that some world traveler and so "qualified," connoisseur had recommended The Side Track Cafe as the place to eat in the area.  He was not wrong.  We stopped in and enjoyed Janine's J9 Garlic Burger with Cry Sauce (as it is hotter (and better) than Fry Sauce).  We also enjoyed Janine.  A rustic little character in cut offs and a T-shirt.  Enough to cover most of her tats.  Janeen learned to cook from her Italian Grandmother and her Filipina Mother.  But her culinary style is all her own.  We struck up a conversation and wound up with her full attention for well over half an hour.  She taught Sweetie the ins and outs of Ceviche and coached me on the finer elements of great black beans.  She told us stories of  her mother's captivation by the Japanese in WWII and her heroics while nine months pregnant.  She pointed out a photo of her mom in which she actually does look like a Filipina Annette Funicello.  I could see neither Filipina, nor Annette in J9.  She also has a photo of four gangster uncles hanging on the wall.  They looked like quintessential Mafioso and like you'd like to eat where they ate (if you could breathe the air.)  Again, when there's time, I'll devote a little more time to The Side Track Cafe and it's unique proprietor.  I expect she'll still know our names six months from now when we stop in again.  That is if we can wait that long.

I had to get home to a Meeting at seven, but that afforded time to divert from Highway 40 at the Tabby turn off and to drive down the Duchesne River canyon and observe the flooding.  Lots of fields are underwater, but so far no homes or buildings seem too threatened.  The "Goldy Locks" weather is just right for easing the snow pack down slowly.  Hope it lasts or Duchesne City will most certainly get wet.

I made my Meeting, which also relieves a lot of stress and while sitting there had a bit of an epiphany.  When you're immersed in stress, you can't dry off until you get out of the water.  Thanks Sweetie for pulling my out of the water and for tossing me a towel.

P.S.  The Raspberry Buttons were heavenly and the Rosemary Cookies, unbelievably good!