Doesn’t that sound like a poem title? It’s not quite that picturesque. My temporary tenant is a vegetarian, so I was going to make a family favorite—green (spinach) noodles with lemon butter, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, scallions, and a bit of pesto. She came home from church with an excruciating backache, went to bed, and hasn’t been heard from since. So I ate green noodles, alone, at my desk, and found them quite satisfying. Besides, I have lots left for lunch, dinner, whatever tomorrow.
I inadvertently invited my old friend, anxiety, back this morning. Slept better than in a long time last night (and later in the morning), got up feeling great, walking without hesitation, no pain, etc. Got as ready for the day as I ever do when staying home and sat at my computer. As time went by, I could feel myself getting more anxious. Don’t know if it’s because I thought about how happy I am at home and how, yes, I fear a bit going into the world alone—like the grocery store. Or maybe it was simply because I hadn’t eaten. About ten, I took action and fixed two poached eggs on cheese and toast plus took my medications—slowly made a difference. But I had two reactions and one is not pretty—sometimes we deliberately sandbag ourselves; feeling great, I was—oh, I don’t know—perhaps thinking that wasn’t right and I invited anxiety back. But two I knew how to deal with it.
The rest of the day was fine—I got a lot done, felt frustrated on projects that stymied me, cleared off my desk including going through three cooking magazines, and now I’m getting ready to read. Two human visitors—Chandry and a friend came in briefly she went to bed. But Sophie and I have been content and visited.
Speaking of Sophie, I have a guest blog up today at Writers and Other Animals about dogs and their intuition. I often wonder how Sophie knows some of the things she does, and I used that intuition in the plot of Murder at Peacock Mansion, due out in early November. Stop by and see if you agree: http://writersandotheranimals.blogspot.com/