Cabin Fever

I have cabin fever tonight. I’ve been blessedly free of that, content to stay home with my computer and books, but tonight I’m antsy. The Burtons have gone to a birthday party; I had a brief happy hour on the patio with Jordan but then she had to leave. Not that I didn’t have a sociability day—to the bank to sign some papers, to Local Foods Kitchen, one of my new favorite places, to pick up something for lunch—actually got egg salad (great) and lemony burssel sprouts slaw (not so great) for lunch and a turkey burger with pesto, goat and provolone cheese, and a tomato slices. Well-seasoned burger, and I hate half of it for supper. Jordan had never been to Local Foods, and I knew she’d love it—all those quinoa salads, etc. They had my favorite beet and orange salad in the display case, but I read somewhere that beets are one of three foods you should avoid—probably on Facebook and probably apocryphal.

Then we went to preview a neighbor’s “stuff” for the neighborhood garage sale tomorrow. I got some kitchen utensils to replace those I’ve lost in the shuffle—tongs, a good metal spatula, a ladle. Jordan added things I neither need nor have room for—a baby crockpot, an outrageous large, square purple candle (okay I know we’re TCU fans but still….), a stress reliever (small foam cow you squeeze) which I think I should give her, and tags for labeling potted plants—those are definitely for her unless we get some herbs.

Just after I finished lunch, John, my brother, and Cindy arrived—I had a b’day present for him, a coffee table book on the historic Hyde Park and Kenwood neighborhoods in Chicago, with plenty of pictures including one of the house we grew up in. Lots of places I remembered and some that I was puzzled that I don’t. John was enormously pleased, more than I expected, and that delighted me. I think he’s getting sentimental in old age.

They brought with them their German Shepherd pup, Buddy, now 16 weeks or more—gangly, growing baby with big feet and one ear that isn’t quite ready to stand up straight. Docile, well-behaved, definitely spoiled. They argue about which of them is doing the spoiling, but I think they are both a bit besotted—who isn’t by a puppy? I thought he and Sophie would play well and they did at first, but something changed and she was not happy about him. I was afraid, as I know John was, that she’d go after that floppy ear, and finally we put both dogs on leashes. Totally unlike Sophie and I will speak to her about company manners.

But tonight I miss the company that used to come for happy hour and linger half the evening. It’s not all bad—I am making progress reading the unfinished manuscript of the sequel to The Perfect Coed and actually liking it. But I’m edgy.

I think cabin fever is yet another sign of healing. Okay, back to my manuscript.