Days bleed into each other, separated by visits from friends, gifts and treats delivered: a beautiful blanket, a growler of kombucha to tame the tummy. time spent chatting instead of lingering in morbid reflection as I am prone to do.
I only know it is Saturday because Kurt is home with me. I know it is getting close to Christmas because the tree has been up for awhile and it hasn't been christmas yet. We bought ready made fruit breads at Costco -- a sin in my house -- but I'm just not up to baking, or much else. I made biscuits and gravy from scratch and about passed out. I just have no stamina. I love to cook, but don't have it in me right now. Smells gag me. I went to Fred Meyer yesterday and found myself wandering over toward the dairy section which, it turns out, is near the seafood section. I couldn't get turned around fast enough and there I was, stalled in shrimp and day old fish land. Typing brings it too close.
Day after day I live with two dogs who keep close watch on me. They are learning to be less noisy, less demanding. I think they like having me home, but I miss my peeps, the crazy little grayhairs that loved to sing Christmas carols with me, who didn't remember my name but knew the words to every verse of Away in a Manger.
Menu for Christmas Day:
Late Breakfast
Scrambled eggs
Twisted Brioche
Twisted Brioche
Early Supper
Cauliflower and Cheddar Soup
Beef Roast, rare-ish with Au Jus and Horseradish Sauce
Roasted Winter Veggies
Dessert
Apple-Marionberry Pie with Vanilla Ice Cream.
Show up!
5 comments:
Wish I could. Good food and better weather. Win win.
Gave up cow, reluctantly. Still, sounds fantastic. Our dinner is postposed until the 27th when Carmen arrives. It's like waiting for the queen.
Merry Christmas. Keep up the good work of winning.
Can I also wish you a happy and way healthier New Year? Yeah? Okay: both of those. For you.
i feel at home in your writing.
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