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On our 4th, we drank copious amounts of lemonade, grilled hamburgers and hot dogs with family, read magazines in red and blue wooden lawn chairs, went swimming, and played with sparklers.
Not really. We didn't set foot out of the house and spent very little time out of bed. I was feeling kind of sore and crampy, so I didn't work on boxes. I did get back to reading The Secret Garden to my boys. I seem to be getting the hang of reading aloud, though I constantly run out of breath.
I made egg salad sandwiches, which were very yummy. Egg salad does not seem like something I'd like. When I was fifteen or so, I suddenly wanted an egg salad sandwich very badly. I don't know why; I'd never had one. I told my dad this, and he found a New York deli nearby that had them. I reveled in the squishy piles of egg salad on thick white bread. When I got a job working in the nursery at a women's gym around the corner, my dad would sometimes bring me dinner from the deli: a root beer and an egg salad sandwich and pickles in a paper bag. Mmmm. One of my dearest memories is of going to Washington, D.C. in twelfth grade with my A.P. Art History class and sitting at a table by myself (being anti-social) at Union Station, eating an egg salad sandwich I could barely squash enough to fit in my mouth. I did that twice.
Here's how I make egg salad. All you need is eggs (I use two per sandwich, so I usually use eight eggs, so Josh and I can have sandwiches for lunch that day and the next day. I wouldn't recommend eating it past the next day), Miracle Whip or whipped salad dressing (reduced fat is good), salt, and of course, bread. I like mine super plain, but most people use dill, paprika, or relish. Josh likes his "bloody ant style," as in with tons of pepper and hot sauce. I love egg salad so much, and thank goodness it got to remain part of our meal rotation after Josh crossed over to the land of veggie heads.
1. Boil the eggs for ten minutes.
2. Put the eggs in the fridge to chill for at least a couple of hours (you can do this overnight too).
3. Remove the shells.
4. Carefully open the eggs and place the yokes in a bowl. Set the whites aside.
5. Spoon the desired amount of whipped salad dressing onto the yokes (just start with a teaspoon glop and see how the next step goes).
6. Use a fork to smash the yolks and mix them into the dressing. Add more dressing if necessary (I like mine to be lumpy and quite yellow, but you definitely want to get rid of all powdery-ness).
7. Put in the whites and use a knife to chop them up to the degree you want.
8. Mix the whites and yokes, add salt, and spoon onto bread.
It's really easy and (as if you don't have enough salt) tastes great with pretzels.
While we ate lunch, we started watching Howl, about Allen Ginsberg and the obscenity trial for his book. Obviously, the subject matter limits the audience for this one, so be sure you know what you're getting into. So far, James Franco is amazing as are the bizarre animations.
I had one of those weird love and appreciation explosions inside my brain and blurted, "You're my dream boy." Josh asked why, and I said, "You're my best friend, and I'm sure there's not a boy in the whole world like you."At least, I think that's what I said. It felt like an incoherent bubbling.
We took a pretty serious nap. When I woke up, I said, "How do you feel about ordering Papa Johns?" Josh woke out of a dead sleep and said, "I feel really good about that." And so it was.
Appropriate for Independence Day, I began leaking colostrum. I did not expect to be so excited about this, but I couldn't stop laughing exultantly and boasting. It's incredible, really. I can feed my baby. I feel like a superhero! Rather than being mildly grossed out like many guys would be, Josh was quite excited too. I never thought my body could do any of this, and it's miraculously figuring everything out on its own. And Oliver did a lot of dancing in celebration. I don't need fireworks when I have that.
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