Simmer Till Done

If you like your “daily dose of Rechelle,” you’re already familiar with the Country Doctor’s Wife. She and I live in the same part of the world, in the same quadrant of the same state. We’re both bloggers - that sounds like saying “we’re both lepers” - but that’s what we are and that’s how we met.

Turns out while I was reading her big fancy three-column blog, she was reading my little “I’ve never blogged before, but aren’t those door knobs pretty?” blog. Comments flew fast and the next thing you know I got giddy, and boldly invited her to Lawrence for lunch.

Rechelle used to live in Lawrence; she met the Country Doctor in Lawrence, and has been known to use any excuse to shop, eat, and harass her sister here. Yes, she would come to lunch.

But first she would visit with me at the new old house.

I knew she’d bring a camera - she’s not a blogger for nothing, you know. I wanted a perfect welcome - through the red door and into a world of gleaming pine floors and sunlit, fresh-baked scones. In my vision there were no boxes, no tarps and painters, no crumbly drywall patches. Just me, making a grand but friendly entrance down the stairs.

“What?” I’d say, feigning surprise. “Here so soon? Come in, come in…I’ve just put on some tea!”

But…no. The painters chose that particular day to do touch-up and patching and caulking, so all the buckets and tarps were out. I did manage to bake scones - the painters ate quite a few - and hurried to get cleaned up before she arrived.

When I ran into the first floor bathroom to wash my hands, I thought, it’s a mess - and quickly used my hand to brush drywall dust off the vanity.

As I leaned over to do that, my hair swung against the door trim - hello, wet paint - and in a spastic effort to pull paint from my hair, I dragged a dusty white hand across my face. Now there’s drywall on my lips and paint in my hair. I smear a crumpled paper towel across my mouth - blech! - covered in caulk. The painters had used it, and now I was eating caulk. It was like Lucy was waiting for Ethel.

Blogger action photo: Rechelle points and shoots.

At the last second I collected myself and greeted Rechelle with moderately clean hair. She wore a lovely handmade scarf and was unfazed by the buckets. As predicted, she whipped her camera out. So I grabbed mine and started clicking. It was like a double delirious through-the-looking-glass blogging event.

We walked two blocks from my house into downtown Lawrence for some very good Thai food at Zen Zero.

I love Lawrence. Rechelle, who used to live here, also loves Lawrence. Did I mention we both love Lawrence?

If you must know, I had pad thai with chicken and tofu; she had dry chicken curry. We both ate crunchy shrimp chips, and we shrieked like idiots.

We both took pictures - lots of pictures of food, chopsticks, the ceiling, light fixtures, and each other. For one afternoon, I had a true partner in crime. We talked and talked, and then I talked some more. It is worth noting that the Country Doctor’s Wife has special powers to make you spill your life’s details, even if she may not wish to hear them, but she got a few words in, too. The topics included: raising four boys vs. one girl (consensus: four boys might be less trouble), house building, husbands, Kansas, Chicago, music, writing, life and every disclosure two women can fit between bites.

At one point she escaped to the ladies’ room. CDW fans, I give you her stuff:

Cute purse. Good camera. Car keys and Border’s Rewards tag. This is how she rolls.

We walked up historic Mass Street, grabbed some coffee and did some more talking.

At La Prima Tazza I introduced Rechelle to my friend Jon, barista extraordinaire and local style celeb, whom she recognized from this blog. It’s a small world after all.

More walking and talking at Sarah’s Fabrics, certainly the most gorgeous fabric store around. Neither of us sew well (or ever), but we agreed that it is thoroughly enjoyable to stare at pretty patterns.

And photograph them.

note my friend Jordan striking a thoughtful coffee shop pose in the background - “J-Yo”
to those in the know

We asked each other, are people the same in person as in their blogs? And we settled on a number: 90.

We are 90% what you see and hear in the blog, and 10% crazy people that you don’t want to know. To Rechelle’s audience, I say - she’s more or less the funny voice you read over coffee every day - only without the ceiling fans, and taller.

She is 90% like the Country Doctor’s Wife, and that is plenty.

We laughed and found we shared many deep ideas - same Asian toile comforter! - and praised each other’s book-worthy, Oprah’s-calling blogs until it was time to go.

How about some cranberry chocolate chip scones for the road? Such an enjoyable day, with stories told and new friends made, all courtesy of House Blogs. Thanks, Jeannie!

Next time, a trip to Rechelle’s turf to meet all her boys and gawk at her beautifully designed new old farmhouse.

For now, enjoy this. I’m so absurdly wee and short here that I appear to be growing out of Rechelle’s shoulder, like some devil-angel cartoon. What am I urging her to do?

“…keep blogging…and have another scone.”

PS. I expect this post will embarrass Rechelle - but it’s not as bad as it could have been. My spell-checker repeatedly tried to turn her into “Rachel.”