Singing the blues

 

This dismal, damp day is a perfect reflection of the way I feel. I don’t know how long it’s been since I had a good, old-fashioned common cold, but one of the upper respiratory type has hit me. For several days I passed it off as allergies, but clearly it is not. I’m coughing, my throat feels tight, and I’m hoarse—I won’t get any more clinical than that. I was emailing with Sue, my Canadian daughter, this morning, and she wrote, “How in the world did you catch cold? You never go anywhere?” That startled me. Do you have to go somewhere? I actually have been out a couple of times, and people come to see me. And who knows how you catch cold? Maybe it’s just airborne. I’m not sure scientists know. It just happens, and then you have to live with it for a week or ten days.

Last night for our regular Tuesday night happy hour we had “Hot Dog Happy Hour.” Mary’s husband doesn’t eat hot dogs, and good German girl that she is, she occasionally craves a hot dog with relish and kraut. Always a good meal to me, so Jordan served us and included some Bush’s Original Baked Beans. A great meal, but hallway through I couldn’t eat. I think it was my cold. Took a moment and finished most of my dinner, but the episode upset me.

Then I had an angry phone call about the neighborhood newsletter I edit. I am really upset with myself that I ended up raising my voice in an effort to stop my critic from talking over me. Didn’t help and worsened my hoarseness and sore throat. Looking back, I should have put the phone on speaker, let her rave, and ignored it. But I was blindsided by the call. Next time!

Unfortunately I took those two incidents to bed with me and dreamt about them. But I slept ten and a half hours which I figure I needed. Sleep for me is never continuous—I am up to use the restroom (a curse of aging, I think) and in the wee hours, up to feed Sophie, then up an hour later to let her out. But still, I had plenty of good long sleep.

This morning I cancelled my dinner plans, a good move since I feel lethargic, and my cough is now to the point where it might alarm other restaurant patrons. I actually did a lot of work this morning, but then took a long nap. When Sophie first woke me, I thought I had written a long blog, but the details blurred as I got going.

My dream blog had to do with a company re-introducing Dorothy Gray cologne—you have to be really old to remember that, but it was the fragrance my mother always wore. In an effort to imitate that, I have worn Jean Naté for years—nothing else, just the one scent. Once in a car going who knows where one of my granddaughters held my hand and then said, “You smell like your house.” “Maybe,” I suggested, “my house smells like me.” The idea must have intrigued me because the rest of the dream had to do with a log cabin that smelled like Dorothy Gray.

At lunchtime I got ambitious and made myself some chicken salad, though I ate very little. I’m in the mood for “invalid food” though not quite to the point of my mom’s milk toast. Her crackers and butter in milk were pretty good, though, and my stock favorite was a can of tomatoes (they didn’t come diced in the day, and in my childhood, they were often home canned) with crushed saltines and lots of butter. But tonight, I think a “Tom Sawyer”—poached egg on a raft of cheddar cheese and toast. What’s your favorite comfort food?

Foodie adventures

Last night I reported on my relatively unsuccessful attempts to cook simplistic meatloaf and pasta sauce. The meatloaf made a great sandwich today, and I added crunch with the semi-cooked onions from the pasta sauce. But I think the sauce will go in the garbage. The lesson learned is that I should have simmered a pasta sauce with herbs the way I usually do and made meatloaf the way I do with celery, chopped onion, ketchup, mustard and all those good things.
I got to reviewing in my mind what I've eaten in the last couple of weeks and it's been a varied diet--starting with white anchovies, lamb carpaccio, and a marrow bone. Then homemade chili, not too hot but with a kick, two nights in a row and a generous helping; tuna in a restaurant where I knew better than to order tuna--I think they just opened the can, put it on some wedge lettuce and covered it with tomatoes and grated cheese and served it with a side of ranch. Then there was sushi with generous wasabi, more marrow bones with foie gras mousse (very bland, tasted like whipping cream), fried oysters, and a Greek meal--ate just a little vegetable moussaka, all the green beans, spanakopita, and Greek salad. No wonder my stomach is in an uproar. I'm sticking to comfort food for a while. And lots of yogurt.
I'm still finding it gloomy that it gets dark all day, and today had only small bits of sunshine. I had nothing I had to do--no shopping or errands, no deadlines--and as a result I spent the day piddling on the computer or reading a novel that I'm really enjoying. But it made for a lazy, non-stimulating day and I felt draggy. Glad tomorrow is Sunday--church and probably Jordan and Jacob for lunch, then dinner with friends.
Got out of the doldrums tonight to have dinner with good friend Mary Volcansek. You know what? I felt brighter already when I put make-up on! We went to Pacific Table and had a fabulous meal--she had scallop salad and I had tuna carpaccio (so much for sticking to comfort food). We split a grilled artichoke--so good!
The world looks brighter to me tonight. Jordan and Jacob were waiting when we got home, and Jordan's gone off to a dinner party. Jacob and I will go to bed early, though he's hungry but doesn't want any of my offerings. Surprise!

This, that and nothing

Sunday is the day I post Potluck with Judy and usually don't do Judy's Stew, but I have to say something about how amazing the service was this morning at University Christian Church. The entire service was John Rutter's Requiem with full choir and orchestra--all as background for the offering and communion, with the usual prayer and a brief homily. I'm not a good listener--movies, concerts, events which require me to sit still for long make me antsy. But I went to church alone this morning, resolved to let the music just wash over me--and it did. It was, of course, an All Saints Day service of remembrance for those we've lost, and many people went forward to light candles. Heartbreaking to see one young woman, holding the hand of a child, come back down the aisle in tears. I didn't light candles but I thought about two friends who lost their husbands this year, and then I thought I haven't been touched much by death, except for losing my parents. But as I meditated, with that glorious musical background (The Twenty-Third Psalm was part of it), I realized that over the years I've lost many people who were important and special to me. It was indeed a good day of remembrance, to hold treasured memories close.
And a beautiful fall day, though I still found it chilly. I had the sinking feeling I may be too cold all winter. Sophie has reacted to the cold weather by spending the day sleeping in her favorite chair--I've given up the battle of telling her to get down, because the minute my back is turned she's up there again. So now she can get on three pieces of furniture--the chair in my office, Jacob's bed, and the couch if Jacob invites her.
A bit of unpleasantness--turns out there was a dead possum behind the garage apartment. A neighbor called both me and Jordan, afraid that Sophie would chew on it--I suspect she's far too refined a dog. Jordan suggested I call the next-door neighbor, but I said he's more squeamish than I am. I called Greg, my friend/yard guy, and he came down and disposed of it while I was at church. Grateful for good friends and concerned neighbors.
Depressing to me to have it turn dark at 6:30. I fixed a comfort meal--scrambled eggs and bacon, a roasted slice of cabbage (see Potluck with Judy for this amazingly easy treat), and a Clementine--I bought a whole bag of them and it turns out Jacob won't eat them.
Off to write a book review and maybe turn on the fire in the fireplace. Good night to feel cozy.

Chilly in Texas

I know northerners think we Texans are wimps about the weather. My brother used to call from Colorado when our schools were closed for snow and ask, "What you got, guys? An inch?" But we get more ice than snow. And the thing about fall weather, at least to my mind, is that it changes so fast. We've been used to this high heat and suddenly it's below normal--a couple of nights ago we were dining on the deck, but this morning the temperature was 40. Darn chilly. I had the greenhouse windows in the kitchen open (I have to climb on a stool to open and close them so I tend to just leave them). Tonight I closed them and kicked the heat up to 70--am considering clicking it up another notch. Sophie is curled in her bed, and I'm tempted to throw a blanket over her. Granted, it was a lovely sunny day but never out of the sixties. If I'd been outside running or walking hard, I'd have been comfortable, but I wasn't. I was at my desk--except for a long nap.
Tonight was the kind of night I wanted scrambled eggs and bacon for supper--my comfort food. I had leftover enchilada casserole for lunch and concluded it doesn't "leave over" well. And last night I had lasagna soup--delicious but it's now almost a week old, and I think it's time to get rid of it.
I'm reading Emerson Hough's Heart's Desire, a 1905 novel about the coming of civilization to a small valley in New Mexico. My noncredit class will discuss it Thursday night, so  need to get cracking on finishing it. I think if you read it as satire, it's pretty funny and good; if you read it seriously, it is almost silly. Wish I had Hough in front of me to tell his intention. Better yet, I wish he could visit the class on Thursday. I'm over half way through, so that cheers me. I'm at my desk, with a shawl over my knees for warmth, and hope to come close to finishing the book tonight.