Jordan takes great pride in her mashed potatoes. She loads them with butter, sour cream, goat cheese, until you hardly know there’s any potato there. But this year, in preparation for Thanksgiving, she’s experimenting with lactose-free mashed potatoes so I can eat them. Smart Balance for butter, Greek Gods original plain yogurt for the sour cream. Result was so good I enjoyed some for breakfast this morning—heated them on my induction burner and felt like a pioneer of some sort.
(Note: my doctor tells me Greek Gods yogurt is probiotic, lactose-free, and safe for me to eat. I’ve eaten the strawberry flavored for breakfast without a problem.)
Eating high on the hog today—Jordan made her tuna salad for me last night, and I’ll have a sandwich for lunch—with a glass of wine. Anticipating it already, at ten in the morning. As you may have gathered, I’m a tuna aficionado. So far I know two different salads that I like. Jordan’s tends to be chunky with lots of lemon; Betty’s is smooth in texture with pickle and no lemon. It’s been a good week for tuna—Betty made me lunch Wednesday, and I ended up having the leftover for dinner. To make me healthy while she ate potato chips, she brought me red grapes—which is how I discovered that fructose needs to join lactose on my do-not-eat list. It’s like all my favorite foods are being pulled away—I can give up strawberries but I grieve for blueberries and raspberries.
An unrelated kitchen note: I lost my skillet the other day. I knew when I got up it was in the sink for me to wash, but in the morning, it was gone. How do you lose a skillet in a 4x6 kitchen? I looked in the fridge and freezer, under the sink, and with the dog food. Finally, I asked Jordan, who collapsed in laughter at the idea of me looking in the freezer: she had taken it in the house to wash.
These fall mornings my cozy cottage is not cozy-in fact it’s darn chilly. I sit here in a sweater, while Jordan comes out in a tank top. I have those things that heat and cool cheaply. They were great at cooling but not so good at heating, and I’ll have to pull out the space heaters soon.
Jordan is preparing for Christmas a bit ahead, but she wants everything done in advance of the family’s arrival next week. So my cottage is now Christmas-y—Santa Mac sits atop my tall skinny bookcase, with three poinsettia candles; a tree glows with lights on a side table (though there is an unlit strip in the middle), and pictures of my gramdkids with Santa—including the classic screaming ones—are atop the legal bookcase. Right now, a Christmas basket with yarn and other seasonal items decorates the coffee table, though I don’t know if it will stay or not. Merry Christmas, y’all!