Learning to like my own company

 

My "on your own" dinner tonight
a loin lamb chop and asparagus with a sour cream/lemon/crumb topping
Yes, I know, white wine with red meat,
but that's what I like.

The Burtons are home tonight, after spending several days at Lost Pines, a resort down near Bastrop where they can lounge by the pool (sounds so boring to me), Jacob can golf and fish. They do this every August as a family vacation, always taking along a neighborhood buddy for Jacob.

For quite a few years—fifteen or more—I lived alone, although Jordan periodically returned until she married. Still, essentially, I was alone and used to it. But five years ago when I first moved into the cottage and was frail after several health problems, including a major surgery, I quickly got used to not living alone. So the first year they went to Lost Pines, I was almost aghast: They’re leaving me alone? I orchestrated a tight schedule of people to visit me or take me to dinner or do anything to keep me from being afraid of being alone.

This year was totally different. Yes, I planned a schedule, but it pretty much fell apart—my Friday night dinner companion (we were going to Lucile’s) was exposed to Covid and went into quarantine, and my Saturday night company suddenly found she would be out of town Saturday night. Only then she wasn’t, and she came over on Friday night when neighbors also walked down for happy hour. And of course there was dinner at the Drover and before that a visit from my Canadian daughter and her husband. So I had plenty of company, except Saturday night and that was just fine.

But I learned several things. One is that when they go on vacation, I somehow think I am on vacation too. I sleep later, nap longer, and generally take it easier. So one morning I slept until eight-thirty, which is pretty unheard of for me, and I wouldn’t have gotten up then but Sophie was pretty insistent, and my conscience pricked me—there’s something about staying in bed too late that conflicts with my work-ethic upbringing. Still, I tell myself I can sleep late even if they are all in the house and getting ready for the day.

Another lesson I learned is one I’ve known a long time: when they are gone, I cook the things they won’t eat. I actually didn’t do as much of that as I thought this week. I stuffed a large zucchini one night with a tuna/cheddar/crumb mixture of my own invention. It was really good and fed me one night and two lunches. I was out to dinner that one night and had leftovers the next day for lunch. Friday night I fixed the Great Outdoors-style sandwich that Jordan and I are loving—and so is Jacob. Saturday night I made a lifelong favorite—salmon croquettes—and had cucumber salad and avocado salad with it. The cucumber salad is a recipe I found for “refrigerator pickles” but when I read it I thought that’s marinated cucumber, not pickles. (The cucumber is sliced, as are the onions—my mom kept a version of that in the fridge all summer, but this had a bit of sugar to soften it).

Now home and heading into a new school/work year, Jordan is going on a rather strict eating regimen which cuts out a lot of the things I like to eat. Having done so well eating on my own, I decided I will cook for the family when they want things I can agree on, but there may be more nights I want to cook for myself. Like cube steak with onion soup gravy or fish tacos with lime/cilantro crema. Or scrambled eggs with corn, goat cheese, and tomatoes—does that not sound wonderful?

So tonight, we batted out a week’s menu—we will only dine together three or four nights, and on the menu are flank steak, baked fish filets, and a roasted soy chicken—an old recipe of mine that I remember fondly. One night my niece is coming with her two daughters, and I’ll make finger sandwiches, but Jordan will eat with Christian because she can’t have the bread in the sandwiches. Not that Christian couldn't have the sandwiches, but just that I'm sure he will opt out.

But I digress from the lessons I learned. The biggest one was that I like my own company. I was just fine Saturday when I woke up knowing I would not see another human all day—after all, I had Sophie for company, didn’t I? I actually looked forward to the day—wrote on my work-in-progress, read a novel, fixed my salmon patties. A good day. And now I know I can do that again. No, I don’t want to go a week without human companionship, but a day or two is just fine. So I guess the lesson is that I am going to be a bit more independent now. Swell, just when we are looking at having to semi-quarantine and mask up again!

Stay safe everyone.