Carnivore Dreams -Chicken Thighs and Drizzle

Drizzle

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.

 

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