Not my favorite day

 

Oh, Texas was sunny and pretty enough today, and the temperature just a bit on the chilly side. A perfect day for football, and the Frogs did it again—beat Tech to add to their unbroken streak. I’m not particularly a football fan—in fact, I am known for resenting TCU football because of all the money it gets while my poor publishing division was constantly threatened with closure to save money. I know all the conventional arguments, so that’s neither here nor there.

But I had a total, at best, of five minutes of human contact today: two driveway visits with the dog groomer while we discussed how long the fur on the top of Sophie’s head should be. I thought shortening it a bit might cut down on her tendency to look like a poodle, and Nathan agreed. Tonight, it’s shorter, but she still looks like a poodle. And Jordan blew in and out of the cottage about five o’clock, so rapidly I hardly knew she was here. Sophie and I had some long discussions, if somewhat one-sided.

The computer world didn’t like me either today. I need to place an order for Central Market—Jordan will go to Albertson’s tomorrow, but there are some things I can only get from CM. Every time I try it tells me “Access Denied” for security reasons. It’s done this before and eventually rights itself, but I can’t wait too long. Jacob can go get groceries tomorrow or Monday afternoon, and I’d like to have them for a guest Monday night.

I am not a big contributor to political campaigns, but as is evident, I am pretty desperate about the mid-terms. Pleas from Raphael Warnock, John Fetterman, and Tim Ryan have especially gotten to me. So I decided to send each a small amount. But Act Blue greets me with FORIDDEN. And I’ve gotten twenty-eleven appeals to renew my Democratic membership, which I did five times until I gave up. I’m still getting those begging emails.

Tonight I was on my own for supper, so I decided to defrost a chicken thigh that’s been in the freezer too long. I used to season thighs with soy and pepper and lemon and roast them until they were cooked through and the skin was crisp for the kids. To my dismay when I defrosted this one it was boneless and skinless. Since I’m such an advocate of bone-in, skin-on chicken, I can’t imagine I ordered that. But I decided to roast it with salt, pepper, and a couple of pieces of onion—good flavor. Then I made it into chicken salad.

There are two schools of thought about chicken salad: chunks of chicken or flaked meat. I often do chunks just out of laziness, but tonight I flaked it, added lemon, green onion, and some celery for crunch. Then just enough mayo and sour cream to bind. It was okay but not great. My takeaway: white meat makes better salad. But there was also something watery about this that I haven’t figured out yet.

Tonight is the night all dog owners dread—the switch back to central standard time. Sophie woke me at five this morning, so I assume she’ll wake me at four tomorrow. How do I explain to her that even though her stomach tells her she’s hungry (when isn’t she?), it’s too early. I am not hopeful, and this transition always takes days.

I read today that in ancient times people slept in shorter periods. After four hours or so, they’d awaken, put wood on the fire, use the restroom, do whatever and then go back to bed where, refreshed after their earlier sleeip, they would make babies—honest, that’s what the source said—and then sleep for another four hours. They called it First and Second Sleep. So, if you routinely wake at four, it’s not insomnia—your body is following an ancient rhythm. And I actually find that my Second Sleep is often deeper and more satisfying. What you do with the interval is up to you!

An interesting note I found today: An eclipse on election night will result in a blood-red moon all across the country for a brief time. Before you take that as an omen, you should know that history or legend tells us that feminine power surges with the blood-red moon. So, ladies, use your power! Get out and vote!