Yesterday was 70 degrees and full sun and today it’s 48 and rain. You can see the wet decking, but somehow not the drops. I stick my nose out there to take my dog for a “quick pee”– she knows the drill– and take stock. I needn’t worry about watering the potato and pea seeds I planted yesterday. It has that loamy, ozone-y smell as I make my way outside, my bald eagle sweater jacket thrown over my pajama pants, hood up against the sloppy drizzle. I have on my son Josh’s tennis shoes (he lives here with me. He’s 35 and has Down Syndrome). I sniff and look for the pony in the pile of crap: It promises germination and all things sprouting, though I pray for warmer temps. Maggie cooperates, pees quickly, and I make my way back inside.
I woke with a slight headache, so I climb back into bed with a cup of coffee, a big glass of water and a couple Tylonol, though after a half hour of meditation (leaving my jaw slack and hanging instead of clenched), I feel the headache lift some and imagine I’ll be ok to take my father to the dentist in town.
He won’t be in there long, I think to myself. He hasn’t been to a dentist since 2012 and since his tooth broke off sans roots, I am sure they will say: oral surgeon. And that will be that.
I think about the day. Dad’s physical therapist is due at 3:30, so I’ll take Maggie and drop some cleaning in Traverse City, stop at the store for some apples, an orange, and a round steak for Swiss Steak for tomorrow.
But tonight will be the challenge of recreating a recipe my parents made when I was growing up, a request from my dad: chicken and egg noodles in an electric skillet. Was never my real favorite, but still, it brings back some good memories. They used a whole chicken as I recall, pieces, but I plan to use chicken thighs. I can’t find any recipe that recommends throwing the noodles into that pan and letting it simmer like they did, but that’s what Dad wants. I will add a few different seasonings: Italian and some fresh rosemary and thyme and a sliced orange. Garlic and onion, white wine and chicken stock. Just wing it. I have some broccoli and carrots, organic, to throw on as well.
It seems a good meal for a damp, soggy day, though, and even though I won’t eat the noodles, the chicken sounds nice, spices interesting. And I’ll just have a bite or two of broccoli/carrots. I’ll bake some thighs as well, some for my dog, and a few for me in case I need a snack here and there.
My diet has slipped slightly in the last four-five days, due to the stress of all these doctor appointments–no end in sight on those. So I better regroup anyway or my mood will suffer more than it is presently.
Happy Monday. I dreamed somebody thought I had stolen a new turquoise necklace I bought for myself: a birthday present from my daughter Hilary. Hey, it’s mine, I told them. Not sure who was challenging me.
Exercise will be Tuesday/Thursday/Sat. this week. I’ve been careful with my posterior vitreous detachment thing, careful not to detach the retina. So far, I hope, so good. Though I see the eye doctor again Friday.
L.E.K. 