Pushing back my boundaries

Yesterday was, for me, a busy day, though ten years ago I’d have probably thought it was an easy day. Jordan, neighbor Mary, and I went to an HEB superstore—really called HEB Plus—some twenty miles away and then out to lunch. I was home long enough to sort of catch up on the day’s emails and make sure all at my desk was in order. Then a quick nap, put together an antipasto try to take to a party, and was off to a small gathering with longtime friends—didn’t get home until after nine, which is late for me to be out. Lesson learned from the day: I rely on my desk time to keep my world in order, and if I’m too long away I feel I’m losing control. I loved everything I did yesterday but always felt sort of out of kilter. Does that make sense, or does it sound like the lunatic ravings of a recluse in the making?

We set out about ten in the morning for HEB. Why go that far for groceries? Because these stores are bigger and offer more than most groceries. Mary pronounced it Central Market only cheaper (they are owned by the same company)—I would add it’s Central Market on steroids. We didn’t actually buy much. The week preceding Christmas is not a good time to shop—none of us planned to cook much at home this week. But I now want to study the recipes I’ve marked to try and go back list in hand. I want to buy some of that delectable fresh bread and study the various salmon cakes. I want to buy fresh gulf oysters and pork that, according to the sign, has no additives, antibiotics, or hormones. Freshly made casserole dinners for two and all manner of fresh salads. Jordan was intrigued by the shredded rotisseries chicken and announced we would soon have chicken enchiladas since she wouldn’t have  to shred the chicken herself. The store has prepared things for the quick cook but an equal offering of basics for those of us who like to do our own preparation.

The evening’s gathering was to be a happy hour with three longtime friends. It turned into a full-fledged meal at which we lingered at the table, exchanging gifts, talking about the holidays, how we came together, and other such. Our hostess served us homemade cauliflower soup with caraway seeds, spiced pumpkin bread, and  a green salad with walnuts and craisins. I planned my antipasto platter for the happy hour several days in advance. I wanted to upgrade the way I serve meat and cheese, piling it in a crowded platter rather than laying out neat slices. I chose salami, mortadella, a  Gouda, and provolone and lightened the platter with tiny tomatoes, baby carrots, cucumber slices, and segments of small sweetie oranges, with a dip of homemade pesto, sour cream and a dab of mayonnaise.

Getting home at 9:30, I barely had time and energy to once again organize my desk, before I fell into bed. This morning I started the day with a list of small chores to be done—and a fresh new haircut. Life is hectic this week, even at my slow pace.