But the day sneaked up on me. It was midnight on Friday by the time I finished and submitted a writing project barely under deadline. I still hadn't cleaned the bathroom and Harry had done one of his wiggling rolls across the floor and left a trail of hair in his wake. I knew I wouldn't be able to get much of anything done Saturday because I had to play at a wedding out of town.
On Saturday morning Mom and I talked before I headed out to the wedding. I told her I was going to be lucky if I got a chance to put out a fresh roll of toilet paper in the bathroom and vacuum up the worst of the hair balls and buy some boring cheese and crackers before the get-together.
An hour or so later, Mom called me back saying that she had made up the flatbread dough for me and I could pick it up on my way home from the wedding. All I had to do was roll it out and top it and bake it. I love my Mom - she can be my "chef de partie" anytime.
Greek style with tomatoes, garlic-stuffed olives, feta cheese and seasonings.
Margherita style with tomatoes, basil, mozzarella cheese and balsamic vinegar.
And a few avocado slices on top for fun.
Served with a tired but happy smile.
I did get some candles lit, but I didn't get the hydrangeas picked. We ate off my Jadeite, but with our fingers and with paper napkins right at the kitchen counter. I forgot about the procecco - my friends brought ready-to-serve margaritas (which we drank from a crappy juice glass) and a variety of interesting beers (straight from the bottles). I drank cheap white wine that was already open in the fridge out of the oldest scuffed and chipped wine glass I have. I did manage to push "play" on the stereo and it turns out we listened to my favorite Coldplay song on repeat for the next few hours (because I'm so good with technology). Not that we noticed. We were too busy relaxing, talking, laughing.