The View From Mrs. Sundberg's Window

Naps, for me, are a dream in themselves

March 30, 2011

Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. I'd been fighting sleep all afternoon, and was in one of those drowsy states one finds oneself after a long day filled up with nothing of real importance. I'd done some spot cleaning and a fair amount of baking, and some thank you letters, but nothing really got me going until I turned on the show and there was some laughter and energy and I felt a semblance of normal.

I suppose I could have taken a nap. But when you have three children, a nap is more of a risk than rest. I've woken up with my face painted like a kitten, with a Post-It note reading "Take Me To Your Leader" slapped on my forehead, with all the pillows in the house piled high on top of me. I've been recorded talking in my sleep, videotaped while in the REM phase, and posed like the Statue of Liberty, complete with a turkey drumstick for a torch.

There was a last nap I had, and it was years ago. I'd fallen asleep folding clothes. Just tipped, there on the couch, and when I came to I couldn't see. Someone had slipped a pair of Mr. Sundberg's clean undergarments over my head, and it took a minute for me to get my bearings. I sat up and there ensued hysterical laughter. Wild, bellybustin', kid laughter, and what could I do?

Naps, for me, are a dream in themselves, but lately I find the idea appealing. Perhaps because I'm growing older and I simply need more sleep. Maybe I'm needing a change in routine. And it's possible that my children really have lost interest in me as a source of entertainment. Whatever it is, I've been thinking about naps and how they're a Ticket to Anywhere for a Quick Little Visit. Like Umbria. Or an Alaskan forest. A canoe on the Brule River, or the front row at an Elvis Presley concert.

After that whole underwear incident, I've told the kids - when they urge me to do so--that I'll nap when I'm dead. Until then, I'll take a moment here and there, put my feet up, close my eyes to give 'em a rest, and breathe. Just resting awhile, until the next thing.

I love beans, and I love this soup. It's easy, and tastes better the day after you make it,
to be honest. Serve it with some good bread and a fruit cobbler.

Bean Soup

1 1/2 cup dried beans

1 chopped onion

2 chopped carrots

2 chopped celery stalks

2 bay leaves

1 T fresh thyme leaves

Place above ingredients in 6 cups water in a pot over high heat.

Boil, lower the heat, cover and simmer until the beans are soft,

about an hour, adding more water if necessary.

Season with salt and pepper, and drizzle a bit of olive oil over before serving.

Enjoy!