Distracting myself

 

Balsamic pork with rice noodles

Today I realized that physical therapy takes time—oh, not the exercises so much but all the extraneous involvement. The therapist who works with me, Dan, came this morning, earlier than I expected—yikes!—and was gone in half an hour. We did lots of small foot and arm exercises plus my walking route and checked my oxygen level every time. So far, the results are better than I thought, though I haven’t tested this out in the real world beyond my cottage.

But then the case manager called “just to check” and see if I had questions, etc. I assured her I didn’t, but I was on the phone longer than I liked as she repeated apparently mandatory warnings, including what to do in case of tornado, which struck me as wildly unrelated to my shortness of breath. Then the intake person called and wanted to come check my “vitals” between one and three. Proud of myself that I stood up and said that wouldn’t work because I sleep every day about two o’clock. So she said she’d come early—and arrived at 12:15 just as I finished making myself a BLT. I wanted to tell her Dan had just taken my blood pressure and pulse but figured it would do no good—she had to do what she was assigned to do which included asking personal questions about other bodily functions. She assured me she will be back every Tuesday, which I guess is okay because from what Dan told me we won’t do this for long and then I’ll be on my own.

All of that was great distraction, but I did start a second read-through of my Waggoner ranch manuscript and its edits and was heartless about cutting out repetitions. But I am still limiting the amount of time I spend on these edits, figuring that a short time with narrow focus is better than long sessions with perhaps wandering attention. Never fear, I have other distractions.

Somehow, I have committed to a lot of cooking this week—not a situation that makes me unhappy. Tonight, we had pork tenderloins in a balsamic sauce that I’d cooked all day in the slow cooker—except I goofed and had it on high too long. Nonetheless, it was good. Jordan fixed Asian noodles (rice) and green beans to go with it, and there will be good pork sandwiches for lunch tomorrow.

Tomorrow I have promised to make skillet spanakopita for Jordan and me. We ordered all the ingredients, but I realized tonight, reviewing the recipe that it is not what I did before and what seemed so easy. Now I am committed to working with phyllo, which I’ve successfully avoided all my cooking years. I figure I’ll make the filling in the morning and assemble the dish in the afternoon. Still, I am a bit intimidated.

Tomorrow I also must work with the salmon I am curing for Easter—again intimidating just because I have never done it before. Come Saturday I’ll make a Russian potato salad (potatoes, peas, carrots, hard-boiled eggs, and cornichons with lots of brine and a bit of mayo) and matzoh crack (kind of matzoh with a toffee topping—don’t judge until you’ve tasted it!).

Thursday Christian’s good friend Gary is coming for tuna noodle casserole—that’s an easy cooking chore, and Jordan will make salad. She and Christian will order in because neither will touch tuna casserole. Jordan invited our good friend Amye to join us and explained she too could order in. Amye, bless her, said actually she’d probably rather have the tuna! Gary will spend the night, so I have put hot cross buns on the Central Market list for tomorrow—my annual fix and our Friday breakfast.

So there’s my cooking week. Next week I may want to eat out or order in every night. Probably not. Have you planned a special Easter, Passover, Ramadan meal? Share the menu with us, please.