Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Quiet, wet, and rainy


What do you do on a totally unremarkable day, except worry about the state of the world and pray for the people of Puerto Rico? I tried to follow my new regime this morning. Read email and Facebook over a cup of tea, put away a mountain of clean clothes, got myself dressed and ready for the day, did the standing half of my exercises, took care of a few odds and ends on my desk—and it was 10:30 before I could turn my attention to my writing. I had to quit and finish fixing lunch for a guest at 11:15. Yes, I made a little progress, but not enough to brag.

Lunch was the high point of my day. My friend Heather, who is a chef, came for lunch. I always feel obliged to fix a special, creative meal for her, and I learn while doing it. Today as you might have guessed from last night’s blog, it was black bean soup and Italian style tuna sandwiches made with homemade pesto. Good, but as always, I find things I could have done better.

Spilling some of the juice from the beans made for a really stiff soup, though still flavorful. Then I could have sworn I had sour cream but couldn’t find it—soup would have tasted so much better. Jordan confessed to having borrowed it and not yet returned it. The eggs for the sandwich didn’t get quite hard boiled (got to figure out that new hot plate), though Heather, bless her, said that’s how she likes them. And the sandwiches, terrific in flavor, were hard to hold together.

Still we had a good visit. We talk food and restaurants and likes and dislikes. Heather is a former student of mine, an English major gone astray, but since she strayed into food service, who can blame her? She cooks at the Museum of Modern Art and teaches at Sur le Table.

In the afternoon, the sky darkened and the rain came, gently and softly. But then, as I was about to nap, there were two big bursts of thunder, which set Sophie to barking ferociously. Then, protecting me, she even sat in the bathroom while I used the facilities. No more thunder, so no more barking, and it was lovely to nap with rain drumming on the roof.

Tonight I had dinner with Jordan and two boys—a frequent overnight guest whose parents travel a lot. His father is a Congressman, and he has interesting stories to tell about his summers in D.C. Jacob of course invited himself to visit this summer.

For a day in which I didn’t accomplish much, I sure am tired tonight.

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