Weekend wallop

 

Sophie telling me she wants her dinner.
She did not care if I was sick or not.
"Give me food!"

Life walloped me this weekend. I woke up in the early hours of Saturday with stomach pains. Except that the pain was on the wrong side and I no longer have an appendix, I’d have sworn it was appendicitis. I dragged around the cottage and finally the pain subsided. About noon I was on my computer with Colin, who had remote control, trying to figure out why I cannot access the Central Market website (I hope they appreciate what a dedicated customer I am to go to all this trouble—talking to a tech the other day I joked I could just start shopping elsewhere; she didn’t think it was funny.) Anyway, I suddenly told Colin I had to go to bed. Lethargic would cover it.

This morning, capricious as that connection is, I could order from Central Market—but I didn’t need anything. Mid-day I couldn’t get in again, but Colin and I figured something out: if I turn the computer off and reboot, I can get into Central Market and Act Blue, the Democratic donation website—which is really what I was looking for this afternoon. I wanted to send money to Ralph Warnock—if you have extra pennies, do support him. His re-election to the Senate is one hope for codifying Roe vs Wade so that women can make their own decisions about their bodies.

Back to my wallop: I spent much of the rest of the day and evening dozing. Got up about four, went back to bed at six; got up at nine, went back to bed at eleven. I worried that I would be wakeful in the night but not so at all. My problem though was Sophie. She is used to being outside in the evenings, but I never leave her out if I’m not up and around the cottage where I can keep an eye on her. Besides, it was too cold last night, but she didn’t know that.

We had several discussions, some sweet and loving, some with raised voice and loud barking. Whether she understands it or not, I always try to use that parenting technique that says make it clear you love the child (or dog) but not the behavior. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. I think in the end she was a bit cowed. When I got up at nine, she was hesitant to come to me until I proved my good intentions.

I had cancelled the supper for Jean—will cook it tonight. And I had intended to turn the TCU football game on because she is a fan. As it was, I just got up in time to see that they’d won. There was too much media hype around this game—reporters trying to inflame the intense feeling that surround the firing of Gary Patterson, some predicting he’d trash his former team. That didn’t happen. And I read that he covered his UT colors with a gray jacket and told some team members he’d be there if they go to playoffs. I’m not such a non-fan that I don’t rejoice in TCU’s winning streak, but I still think the entire episode around the firing of Patterson is a blot on TCU’s history.

This morning, back “at myself,” I’ve written a letter to the Star-Telegram editor because I was so offended at a “teaser” email that had six or eight headlines, all of them either praising the Republican victory in Texas or dumping on Democrats. I was particularly offended by Nicole Russell’s offensive suggestion that Beto just go away. He won’t, and I’m glad. But what journalism has become offends me—from such strong partisan bias to the attempt to get more drama than usual going about the TCU/UT football game. The Star-Telegram won’t listen, but I feel better for having expressed myself. These days I feel journalists make no effort to distinguish between straight, unbiased reporting and opinion.

I’m also trying to enlist help for chores—seasoning a cast iron pan which I can do but it intimidates me; photographing some mobility devices that I want to sell cheap and clear out some space in my bedroom and installing outdoor lights that throw tiny bits of red and green on the white wall across the patio. The lights I’ve had for several years no longer work.

Tonight’s menu, which was to have been last night’s dinner, brought more accolades from Jean than I expected. Turkey burger slides that she liked better than I did. It was a recipe I’d made before. Called for a cup of Monterey Jack shredded; I knew there was some in my cheese drawer so didn’t order it. Wrong! It was Mozarella and it expired last July. Got to clean that drawer more often! But we both liked the pinto bean salad (I might add a bit more lime juice to the leftovers) and the creamy cucumber salad with dill. Living at Trinity Terrace, Jean eats upscale restaurant-style meals most nights and says she is tired of dishes with sauces and creams and the like. So she appreciated the down-home food tonight.

And I call that a wrap. I’m still a bit sleepy from yesterday and doubt I’ll last as late as usual. A bit of reading, and I’m off to sleep. Got to get with Irene tomorrow.