Sophie at the veterinaray clinic. Note the IV tube.
Ready to come home tomorrow.
I think it was Maya Angelou
who said we all need to take an occasional day out. The world, she reminded us,
won’t fall apart without you. That’s what I did today—a day out. The Burtons
were out all day, celebrating Jordan’s birthday at the Roadhouse, which is supposed
to have great burgers. They were up, bright and bushy-tailed early this
morning, Jordan is a bright green top with shamrocks dangling from her ears. My
bow to St. Patrick tonight is a pale green T-shirt (with a VW bus on the front)
and bright green footlets. By rights I should wear orange because my ancestry
is Protestant Irish. I’m fairly sure my forebearers, three generations back or
more, left Scotland for Northern Ireland. They were Protestant Irish, but I
like the myth and legend of the larger Irish culture, the green of St. Patrick
if you will. Perhaps W. B. Yeats best summer up Irish culture: Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of
tragedy, which
sustained him through temporary periods of joy.
Since
I would be cooking only for myself, there’s no Irish menu in the cottage
tonight. But tomorrow my family will get corned beef, champ (a mashed potato
dish with lots of butter and green onions), and Brussel sprouts. Coming up with
a green vegetable that’s Irish and my family will eat is hard because
everything is cabbage, and they won’t touch it. When Christian asked why the
Irish eat so much cabbage, I suggested it is plentiful, cheap, and nutritious.
I refrained from adding something to the effect that you can make some
wonderful dishes with it. Colcannon is also out—no cooked spinach. I also
didn’t tell him that Brussel sprouts, which he likes, could be considered tiny
cabbages. Tonight I have made myself a huge batch of pea salad and will eat
with it, I think, the sardines in preserved lemon that I would have served to
Jean the other night.
I
was sad that my happy hour guests cancelled tonight—particularly sad because
friend Jaimie burned her hand badly. But that cancellation added to my day of
peace and quiet. I had planned to make a couple of appetizers to entertain Greg
and Jaimie, but I’ll save them for a reschedule when Jaimie is in a better
place.
So
this was my day out: I slept really late, with no Sophie to wake me and demand
food. I barely had time to read emails before church, which I attended via Zoom
in my pajamas. A bit of cottage cheese for brunch, and I applied myself to the
last words of Irene in a Ghost Kitchen. I finished it—at least the first
draft—and I breathed a huge sigh. Seems like I’ve been writing this mystery
forever. It came out at close to 58K words, so if I can pick up another two
thousand on editing, it will be a respectable length for a cozy. Tonight I’ll
start some notes for a show about Helen Corbitt that Mary and I are to
collaborate on. Mary regularly teaches cooking classes for the Silver Frogs,
the senior noncredit program at TCU. So she roped me in to provide commentary
and background on Corbitt’s life while she demonstrates the recipes. Should be
fun, though I am a bit confused on which one of us will say what. I’m sure it
will work out, and it’s one of those things I vow not to overthink. Oh yes, I
did have a nap in the late afternoon but only dozed—think I satisfied my need
for sleep this morning.
The
Sophie report is good again. She’s eating, albeit with appetite-stimulating
medicine. Today the clinic will take her off her IVs and see how she does on
her own, with the goal of bringing her home tomorrow. I have a list of
questions for our vet when we see him.
After
a week fraught with tension and worry and distractions, I’ve enjoyed my peace
and quiet. Talking with a friend recently, I said one reason I didn’t want to
move into a retirement community was that I like my privacy. From friends who
live in Trinity Terrace I get the sense that even though you can get privacy in
your own apartment, it’s easy to be drawn into the constant round of
activities. No such temptation in my cottage, and I was completely happy today.
But I wouldn’t want to spend every day this way.
