Nutella needed

Zero body fat jiggles on the rhyming Romanian marathon runner.  I think she's hungry.  I think she's strong.  I hope she wins.  I wonder if she married someone who created her tongue twister name or if her farmer parents purposely saught out such an oral assault.  Even if I hadn't affixed brownie band-aids to my hips all week, I still couldn't run a single mile at their pace, let alone 26.

Shitake mushrooms sizzle with onions on the stove.  Pasta, rescued a little late from it's boiling bath, lies oiled in the pan.  Daniel chops heirloom tomatoes and I keep adding items to our grocery list.  I am happily at home, my heart has hurt for many days, and I am thinking of my cousin.  She embraced a sorrow so profound, soothed the moist eyes and heavy hearts of a circle of mechanics, and will soon end the day that said the public goodbye.

Nutella and pumpernickel.  With glee I write these items on our Trader Joe's list.  Who would need such items?  Surely a European must be en route...yes, she is.  My beloved Fadime is coming.  Her plane will soar above the greenery of Iceland and the ice of Greenland on Monday.  Her and Anna will arrive with smiles, fatigue, and fine chocolate.  Oh, the chocolate.  Chocolate and bobby pins (for the Germans excel at the smooth bite of dark chocolate and the tight bite of strong bobby pins).  Yes, I know that it's possible the chocolate is Swiss or Belgian; however, Fadi and Germany receive the credit for bringing it to my quivering lips.

This week will bring professional and personal firsts.  I have no lesson plans, no units perfected, no handouts with clip-art ready to garner accolades...but I will need something for Monday morning.  Just like the broccoli, lemons, and corn that wither in our fridge, so was my work ignored this past week.

400 meters left for the Romanian to win gold.  The Kenyan and the Chinese muscle poles jostle for silver and bronze.  Daniel salts the salty sauce.  She will win!  The oldest winner of the Olympic marathon. 

And personally, I am about to host my dear friend, my Kurdish rabbit, for several weeks.  I have only weekend and evening slices of time to offer her, but her energy, her smile, her laugh, will lighten my spirit.