Self-indulgent Saturday

 

Tonight, I had three of my favorite foods for supper. They may have been odd pairings, they made a great supper for me: salmon (it was fresh Scottish salmon, so how could I resist), the mild guacamole from Central Market, and fresh raspberries. When summer fruits are in season, raspberries are my favorite. I remember getting buckets of them for fifty cents at a rural market in Indiana as a kid. As for the salmon, I kind of went on instinct—just salt and pepper, poured a little white wine on the pan to keep it from drying, and watched it almost constantly for the seven minutes it roasted. Salmon came out cooked just right, which for me is barely cooked. Guacamole was delicious—I can’t take the spicy version. And the raspberries were sweet—sometimes, early on, they’re a bit tangy, but these weren’t. Topped it off with two salted caramels. Yes, a self-indulgent dinner. But I deserve.

Today was a piddling day. Everybody needs one of those. I was lazy about everything I did, dawdled over emails and news reports. I am so fascinated by the chaos in our country that it sometimes takes me a long time to catch up on all my sources, even on weekends. Still, I managed to write a thousand words and I have the next scene in my mind. Ate leftover for lunch and took a long nap.

The Burtons were gone most of the day, and when they were here, I was napping. We crossed paths briefly in the late afternoon before they went to an American Cancer Society event at the zoo. Somehow the attendance requirement was to wear white. Jordan came out in a white dress with puff sleeves and my only thought was, “I would so spill my dinner all over the front.” Christian said he fully expected red wine stains. Should have told him to drink white.

My interesting side note for the day. In my adult life, I've had periodic bouts of anxiety, a few times almost crippling. For that reason, I identify with the Simon and Garfunkel song, "Hello, Darkness, my old friend." I always thought Darkness was a reference to anxiety or depression which throws you into a dark state. Not so. In college, Art Garfunkel had a good friend who lost his sight and withdrew from the world. Garfunkel took it as his responsibility to help his friend and set him on the path to a productive life. He was by his side, literally, all through college, and he named himself Darkness. He would say, "It's Darkness, your old friend." Because of his devoted help, the man went on to get a law degree and graduate degree from prestigious universities. He married, had a family and a career as an entrepreneur, and became a wealthy man. Remember that, the next time you hear that song.

I’m off to read a novel I started last night. Not my typical choice—it’s about female spies in World Wars I and II. Hope it doesn’t give me nightmares. Sweet dreams, y’all