It’s their third winter together. I had hoped by now they’d be cuddling in front of the stove. I was grateful to see them lying peacefully, but seconds after I took this Wren succumbed to the Topaz vibe and gave up the rug, went back to her pillow. Oh well. At least they’re communicating in their own way.
The broccognocchini that kept on giving. For the second leftovers, I sautéed sliced portobello mushrooms and the next-to-last garden onion, then tossed in the gnocchi and more tomato sauce. Simple. Delicious.
The third leftover meal was even more simple, gnocchi boiled, drained, back in the pot with more red sauce, topped with parmesan and fresh chopped basil from the sunroom. The fourth and final leftover leftovers from the night before came out of the fridge, got a dollop of mayo, half a can of cannellini beans, celery salt, a sprinkle of homemade paprika, a sprig of fresh parsley, and an accidental cat hair I only just now noticed in the picture! Ick. And oh well. Hope I shook it off before I broke up the parsley but I don’t remember. The salad was delicious anyway. And so simple.
And now for something completely different! I’m grateful for a gold star at my three-month post-op visit. How the time has flown by! On the one hip, I mean hand, it’s hard to believe it’s been that long: I still remember that full moon night in the hospital vividly, and how utterly helpless I was when I first came home. On the other hand, it feels like a long journey from then to now, walking around without the cane half the time in the house, squatting to put firewood in the stove for the first time in years, shoveling snow, going up and down stairs like a grownup this week. Because the PT exercises gave me such trouble in my right hip initially, they x-rayed that as well as the left hip last week. The news was great for both hips: mild arthritis on the right side, just a little pinch at the front but a good smooth ball joint, “nothing like the deterioration of the other one”; and good bone growth starting onto the socket cup and top of the post in the right hip. He could see it, I can’t, but I’m willing to take his word for it. Not for the first time in my life, I’m grateful for x-rays.
Driving home after a successful venture out into the world, I was grateful to see this beautiful big buck strolling into the woods along the driveway. I paused and savored the vision. He was like my prize for a good doctor visit, for good healing, for taking care of myself.
I’ve so much to be grateful for. These little irises going strong through snow and cold and sun all week exemplify the fragility, beauty, and resilience of life. They show up day after day, year after year, just like the rest of us. Even as their blooms fade and their leaves grow tall, then brown and die back, their little bulb hearts keep beating underground all year, even when they lie dormant through winter.
After sharing the dramatic photo of tumbleweeds in Utah over last weekend, I noticed the new weedpile stacked up in the corner fence of the neighbors’ field along my driveway. Mostly weedy tall mustards, but that darker spiny blob toward the west is a tumbleweed… and there are several more along the fenceline. I can only be grateful there are not more, and then turn my attention to find gratitude elsewhere.
Like in this perfect loaf of sandwich bread. Because sourdough is a living thing, and bread is an art, I have yet to get utterly consistent results, but I continue to practice. I have to laugh at my attachment to my contentment ritual, which includes a cheese sandwich for lunch while watching one TV show, and then another show or two after the workday is done, with another meal or snack. So when I don’t have bread I can get a little flustered about what to make for lunch. When I don’t have TV, well, that was a new challenge last week. It worked out pretty well, as I had to focus on a project early in the week and spent the evenings on the computer. But the second day of no TV, the first day of new bread, I broke the mold and made a sandwich for dinner and streamed RuPaul’s Drag Race España All-Stars episode 5 so I didn’t get behind. I’m grateful for ample technological options in this first-world entertainment emergency.
I’m grateful always for drag queens, and to RuPaul who has brought this art form into the mainstream, introducing many of us who were raised in rigid, self-righteous, judgmental, narrow-minded and bigoted families and subcultures to the expansive, fabulous creativity, humor and diversity of the drag world. Any given week, I enjoy watching whatever current English-language Drag Race season is airing, and usually an episode from one of the many international franchises available. Once I finish España All-Stars I’ll start Drag Race Belgique Season Two.
Tonight I enjoyed the latest episode of the current season of the original Drag Race, an episode whose time has come. At last the drag queens are stepping up their political presence! In this episode (S16E10, available on MTV or for purchase on Prime), their main challenge was to write verses for and perform this song encouraging gay people and those who love gay people, as well as everyone else, to register and vote! It’s no secret that one presidential candidate will continue to advocate for LGBTQ+ people, and the other will persecute them mercilessly, implementing more hateful laws that will cause even more suffering. I repeat, if the sexual orientation of you or someone you love is anything other than straight, YOU BETTAH VOTE! And there’s only one viable candidate:
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen on another night, because I can’t eat a cheese sandwich for dinner every night, I made Tofu Musubi. I mixed Dijon mustard with a little water, and added some spices and baking powder to flour, then dredged the drained tofu slices in those and fried them until crispy. After cutting the Nori wraps to the right size I tried a scrap on Wren, and she loved it.
I was grateful I could text my Portland sister to remind me what I was forgetting in the construction of the delicious snacks and it was the Furikake, which I located in the tertiary spice cabinet. Then I scooped some Hoisin sauce into a little bowl and sat down to enjoy an incredibly messy supper listening to Radio Swiss Jazz. On account of no TV still.
“You BETTAH not try to take my seaweed!”
Days continued to pass, and spring bulbs to open. Spring again. I got to thinking, Realistically, how many more springs might I get to experience here? And the number shocked me. Maybe more than ten, or maybe in the single digits. That got me thinking how many actual days might I have left, which also didn’t seem like many, and that led to wondering how many days I’ve been alive. I am supremely grateful for each of the 27,795 days of this one precious life so far.
Different day, different cheese, different condiments; same perfect bread.
I could start wondering how many cheese sandwiches I’ve eaten in all those days, but I’m not gonna go there. I will say, I’m grateful that they seem to be good for my teeth! Or at least, not doing any damage. I went to a new dentist this week, got a new set of x-rays as those haven’t happened since 2012, and got a kick out of the newfangled full-mouth x-ray, which shows no worrisome abnormalities in my mouth and jaw. Yippee! I’m grateful for a clean bill of dental health. (But yuck, look at all those amalgam fillings from the old days, which are starting to crack some of the molars.)
I’m grateful for another lovely sunset inside the kaleidoscope last night, and for a fun playdate for Wren this afternoon. The new neighborhood puppy has learned some restraint since his first encounter with her, and they had a blast chasing each other around the yard. She showed off all her favorite places, and then she showed off her long jump. We were down by the pond, Deb and I minding our own business, and seconds after she told me “He loves the water,” Oso ran right into the curly rushes edging the pond. Which led to him splashing into the water in the middle and paddling to the near side where we stood. He needed a little lift to get out. As we laughed he shook off and took off again. A few minutes later, Wren ran straight for the pond and leapt, clearing the full width of it. What was she thinking? Was she showing off? Was she teaching him? Was she trying to trick him into the water again? He ran after her, right up to the edge, and stopped; stood there for a few seconds puzzling out how to get to her, then ran around. And off they went again. May I find as much delight and gratitude in each of my remaining days as I have in the past five.
