 |
Jacob, eating Ramen on the patio
By shopping at several stores, his mom managed to get
enough Ramen to keep him happy for a couple of weeks;
it's apparently a high-demand item.
|
No, I
don’t intend to number every day or consciously count them. That way lies madness,
I am sure. But today it strikes me that a week ago today I spoke at a women’s
luncheon and had supper with a good friend—and I haven’t been away from the
house since. Our world has changed remarkably in the short space of seven days.
Rain
and thunder again in the night, only I slept through them. My only clues were
that the sidewalks were wet and Sophie didn’t want to leave my side. I woke to
a dull morning and a temporary bit of the doldrums, which didn’t improve when
the sun came out in the late morning. By noon, I was unbearably sleepy and not
interested in doing much except either sitting at my desk or crawling back into
bed.
I
worked—and did some piddly things—but didn’t accomplish as much as I would have
liked. I am torn between my natural inclination toward being a compulsive and
an underlying sense that there’s no hurry about anything I do—I will have
months and months to accomplish it. Add to all that an acute awareness of the
danger of lethargy, and I didn’t much like myself this morning. I took a nap
about two and swore to wake up a new person.
One of
the things I like about myself is that with stern talking to, I can almost
always pull myself out of the doldrums. It’s how I got through the long,
difficult post-operative period after my hip surgery, and that same attitude
stood me in good stead today. I woke up refreshed—dealt with a few things on
the computer (my 10-minute census form and cancelling a disputed credit card
charge) and swore to fix myself a good supper.
By
4:30 rain was threatening again, and Jordan came out to ask if I wanted to sit
on the patio a big before the storm hit. She is determined that I get some vitamin
D every day. I did like the idea. (Our patio is growing green algae from all
this rain!) Jacob joined us, and we probably stayed 15 minutes before the
thunder and threatening skies drove us inside.
I
fixed a cheesy/tomato/white bean baked recipe from the NYTimes—glad I
cut it in half because it was okay but not great. To go with it, I fixed salmon
croquettes, a favorite since childhood—only I make them as patties, rather than
the log-shape my mom used to do. While I was cooking, Jordan sat at my desk and
compiled a Central Market order, thinking maybe it would be Saturday before it would
be ready. Yep—it will be a week from Saturday!
After
dinner, despite the reading I already have on my desk, I started a new book:
Erik Larson’s The Splendid and the Vile. I am a Larson fan, from reading
The Devil in the White City, about the Columbian Exposition, set
practically in the Chicago neighborhood in which I grew up, and Isaac’s
Storm, about the 1900 hurricane that nearly wiped out the entire coastal
city of Galveston. Larson’s new book is
about Churchill and the early days of WWII in England, the days some refer to
as “the Gathering Storm.” I am particularly drawn to British history in that
time and to Winston Churchill as a historic figure—an interest that makes me
feel closer to my father, who was an inordinate fan of Churchill.
So I
salvaged what started out as a lost day and am feeling better about tomorrow.
After all, we’ve got a long haul ahead of us—as did the Brits in 1940.
No comments:
Post a Comment