“Each new day is a gift. That’s why they call it The Present.” So states a bit of 12-Step folk wisdom that is annoyingly accurate.
It’s been kind of painful around here, physical pain. I have some back pain that will not seem to abate. A trip to the orthopedic surgeon revealed no changes at the surgical site. Ergo, what I am experiencing is muscle pain. That’s nice. I guess. So I’m back to swimming and walking and doing all the stuff I normally do, with no expectation that the pain is going to go away. Fair enough. As long as I know nothing is getting worse, I can live with the pain.
We don’t do any decorating for Christmas. Being married to a person who has no commitment to organizing or cleaning means that the clutter is the Decor. Throwing a marriage away for slovenliness of the dwelling seems like a crappy reason to walk though.
Cooking is the general activity for me around here. I fix dinner every night and groove on being a House Husband. I did turnips Monday, for the first time in eons. I just peeled them, cut them up, boiled and mashed them with some dill weed and poppy seed. Yummy. I made salmon cakes with canned red salmon, the kind they call “Sockeye”. I just added cracker meal, celery, dill weed and an egg and formed them in patties. I fried them in my Scanpan nonstick skillet until golden brown. The pan requires no added fat and they browned beautifully Again Yummy.
I had a cooked sweet potato in the fridge and resolved to make a sweet potato pie with a Graham cracker crust. Pulling out the trusty Betty Crocker Cookbook, going to page 331 were the directions. Simple and delicious. I mean that.
I shared all this bounty with my stepmother. That was the most satisfying aspect of the whole experience.