Recipe for an Almost Perfect Sunday

There’s not a food blog today, Cookers. My “work” hat is off, and writing definitely is work. It takes away from other shit I’d rather do sometimes so that makes it work. I’m not doing it today.

The holiday season has passed but we’re still moving pretty steadily with our jobs and home life, so today we just wanted to go the fuck away. I had a few gift cards from the holidays so we hopped on over to Ann Arbor for scallops, steak, ribs and a damn impressive salted caramel creme brûlée. Damn impressive, indeed.

Here’s a recipe for an almost perfect day. I’m gonna see about getting the recipe for that deliciousness pictured above. It tasted like a bowl of melted Sugar Babies candy.

What You Need:

1 best friend/partner

4 gift cards totaling “none ya biz” dollars

1 days worth of good weather

1 cute and cozy outfit

1 full tank of gas in your truck

1 slow and low traffic highway

1 bad ass steakhouse

Access to a recreational cannabis facility

1 very small grocery list.

1 fucking idiot flying through a stop sign at a country intersection while you’re also flying home to your dogs.

A pinch of each; good fortune, karma and instincts.

What You Do:

Get up early Sunday morning.

Do your yoga and meditation with intention toward an absolutely beautiful day.

Get yourself showered, dressed and feeling jazzy.

Now head out, holding onto your “Sunday Funday” attitude.

Try to keep the phone play at a minimum.

Listen to good music and talk lots of shit on the highway.

Eat excellent food.

Buy excellent weed. Legally.

Get your shopping done cooperatively, and GTFO of the store.

Hurry home to your pups.

Stay alert and narrowly miss death by near T-bone due to a stupid person in a gold mini van flying through the stop sign while you’re doing about 60.

We had a most amazing little day following this very recipe.

If it hadn’t been for the near car crash and almost shitting myself, I would’ve declared it perfect.

I just want to say real quick that my man is amazing, and you can believe that putting up with my fast and feisty ass is not easy.

I don’t always give him enough of my time or attention. I’m very much a mover and a doer. I’m not good at relaxing because I fear it’s a waste of precious hours, but because of all this our relationship doesn’t always get the what it deserves, so that’s something I intend to put more work into. Not this year or decade. For life.

This dude has been patient while I’ve worked through my shit. He’s loved me through drinking problems, employment issues, family strife, broken friendships, a colorful life and a very dark past. Then he gave me space this past year to really focus on my growth, and he knows I’ll never stop working to be my best self, which means even when I’m not at work, I’m still busy working on something developmental that is often personal and requires my full attention. He just gets me.

I believe in unconditional love for the first time in my life. I’m not saying people haven’t loved me unconditionally. I’m just saying I never really believed them. It’s time to relax and just fucking be happy. Setting aside quality time with my man is now a top priority. Anyone else out there struggle with this dilemma?? If you have a good partner, take stock and be sure you are giving enough and not taking things for granted at home. I’m guilty but growing. We came very close to that car crash and it made me look at my life with a little more gratitude than yesterday. That’s all I’m saying.

Alright. Let me rehash the day because it’s been awhile since we just hung out, plus a couple funny things happened.

“Hanging out” is not something I do BTW. I’ve said it before. I’m 45. I hung out in my 20s, and frankly, the term itself gets under my skin.

The weather was perfect for January. No snow or ice, cold enough to wear cozy sweaters, scarves, hats and boots (my fave), sun was shining. Also, the traffic was at a minimum which made our 40 minute drive easier. He doesn’t pick at my driving, which I love, so I took the wheel since I am not drinking and I know he likes to Bloody Sunday.

I love Ann Arbor for people watching and cultural diversity. It’s a food lovers Heaven on Earth with all the ethnic options, so it’s my kind of place, but the cost of living is stupid there and we really like our lake life, with the privacy of the woods.

It’s just a hop, skip and jump down the road far as I’m concerned. Both of us commuted there for years, so the drive is nothing, but it’s nice when you don’t have to do it 10 times a week.

Now, I pride myself on manifesting, so of course we got a spot in the parking garage across from the restaurant with like no problemo. That’s child’s play by now. Let me find a hundred dollar bill laying on the ground though, and it will be the server’s lucky day. Nope. Ah, well. There’s always hope.

It wasn’t slow inside, but not full and we settled into a cozy booth without a wait and got the damn thing started with some scallops.

He had a spicy Bloody Mary and I drank iced tea. He had ribs and house cut fries with clam chowder. I had filet mignon with mushrooms, a loaded baked potato and a salad. There are no pics because we were enjoying our meal together. I wasn’t thinking about the blog at all. We had to share that fantastic creme brûlée, and it’s a good thing because I really would have eaten a whole one and felt miserable. It was sooo goood.

After lunch we made a pit stop at an Irish bar because I had a problem with eating all that food. My gut doesn’t work with any gluttony, so it made me pay with the feeling that I was about to lose my shit. Literally. I told him to go enjoy a Jameson, but instead he waited for me like a gentleman. I know it’s wrong, but we never went any further into the place. I was mortified, to be honest. Even after close to 7 years with him, shit like that is embarrassing.

We drove around a couple blocks to find the dispensary where we acquired some recreational herbals that we were able to just go into a store & BUY!! Ahhhh. I’m truly so happy to be alive and well in 2020, and I’m even content here in Michigan. That being said, we grew our own fantastic pot last year, so it wasn’t necessary to go, and the prices are outrageous. It was novelty. No card. No problem. No more. I’m just saying.

We hit the highway, skipping a trip to my favorite spiritual shop on Earth. I didn’t want the day to go awry with me dragging him through gems and books. That’s shit to do with the girls, right??

Ladies. Your man don’t want to go browse girlie shops with you. Just saying. Mine’s honest enough to let it be known, so I’m doing you a favor by breaking the news.

We did a quick trip for groceries and other goods, and were happily breezing down the country road one mile from our driveway when shit almost hit the fan. Actually I almost hit the van. At the intersection of our road and a cross road I saw it. A gold gold van. Flying.

I was almost to the road and yelled, “Oh FUCK!!” while I watched Johnny gran the “oh shit” handle on his side of the Jeep.

My first instinct was to slam my brakes, but it wouldn’t have stopped us. So I turned the damn wheel and tapped the brakes instead. Thank you, Dad. You really taught me the important shit. Thank you, Lady Universe. You really do have my back.

I wasn’t going to blog at all today, but Mr. Wonderful is napping and I felt inspired by the simplicity and the “being” of today.

My yoga teachers will often stress the importance of drawing back so that we can then push forward stronger. We also have to be able to sit back and receive the things that are meant for us. We can’t always be reaching and doing. Resting and reflecting are part of the process. Any process.

This is my spot for the night. Sweats on, face off. I’m content, grateful and damn lucky to be alive for so many reasons.

I have books, water, weed and 3 boys who look at me like I’m the most wonderful thing in the world.

I hope you are finding hundreds of things to be grateful for today, and if not, I know you can find 3 if you just breathe and open up.

Sunday Love, Cookers.



Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission by the owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts or links may be used, provided that full credit is given to M.L. Clement or cHELLe ON WHEELS, LLC. with appropriate and specific direction to original content.

5 thoughts on “Recipe for an Almost Perfect Sunday

      1. I’m sitting here looking at our $22 joint leftovers and a $70 3 grams, thinking there won’t be any more dispensary visits. Our weed is fantastic!!
        WTF?? 😂
        I wasn’t even drinking and we made that purchase??


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