Brain Block

When I'm tired, I find it difficult to think through even the simplest things. Take dinner tonight, for example. Dane is studying southern California in History and Geography. I was reading to him tonight in preparation for a test later in the week and reached a part where it talks about El Centro. My brother-in-law had a close friend who lived in El Centro and my sister and her family lived just a little north of El Centro some years ago. My brother-in-law pastored a mission church in the oasis town of Brawley. I went to visit one year. I flew into San Diego, rented a car, and drove east through the mountains. I'll never forget coming down out of the mountains and, as far as I could see east, north and south was nothing but desert. I drove for several hours through dry, brown desert before arriving in the oasis community where my sister lived. When I read to Dane about El Centro, I decided I needed to show him what it really looked like.

I pulled up a satellite map on the computer. Dane stood over my shoulder oohing and aahing. We zoomed in, then zoomed out as we moved around southern California. We looked at the mountains, then the green squares that indicate truck farms that are irrigated by water from the Colorado River. We found El Centro and Brawley on the aerial map. This whole section of his Lifepac began to take on new meaning.

After spending about a half an hour looking with him at topographical maps, I realized that smells from my dinner cooking on the stove were wafting down the hallway. I jumped up, having been so buried in southern California that I had forgotten about my meal boiling away. Sure enough, it's burned and unsalvageable in its current condition.

Now, what am I going to do about dinner. Dane has baseball practice at 6, and I can't seem to formulate any other plan. It looks like this is one of those nights where we are going to have to hit fast food. While I hate eating out (it seems like such a waste of money), I simply can't think through any other options.

If I wasn't quite so tired, I'm sure something would strike me but, after looking in the big freezer, the little freezer, the fridge and pantry, I'm still just as stumped as I was when I first saw my beef burgundy charcoal lining the kettle.

The kids surely can come up with a place to eat. Right now, I can't even think through that. But only a few more hours, and I can go to bed. And I'm sure I'll be more rested tomorrow.