As I may have mentioned in the past, when I get sick I get REALLY sick, but when I get the right diagnosis and meds and start feeling better, I get better VERY quickly, almost as if I have a delayed healing factor. Despite the fact that I can do a 180 overnight, I always have lingering apprehension after extended periods of illness so I tend to be paranoid about eating or making plans, until enough significant “healthy time” has passed, before I trust I’m actually out of the woods. On the flip side of that, I am always mentally ready to be more active much sooner than I am physically ready, as I always need longer time to recuperate – considering the stress my body endures from not functioning properly, poor nutrition, discomfort, etc. – than my mind wants to let me.
Yesterday, I felt better than I had in weeks and I couldn’t resist taking advantage of it: I did laundry, I took Jeffrey’s car out* to pick up my comics and prescriptions and some groceries and then returned home to work on bagging and boarding and re-shuffling my comic book collection** for the afternoon before starting dinner.
Since Jeffrey has spent the last two weeks waiting on me hand and foot, running all errands, preparing all meals, driving me all over and taking care of all chores, I wanted to do something special to say thank you now that I was feeling better. So, I decided to try making one of the dishes from the blog, Bo’s Bowl. I’ve been following Bo’s Bowl for a while now, always salivating over his recipes, and the one he posted Friday, Pasta Rustica with smoked Mozzarella, just kept taunting me, so I decided to try to make it last for Jeffrey’s thank you dinner.
I am not a good cook. I’m not sure I am even a decent cook. I have no “kitchen intuition” or whatever the chef equivalent of a green thumb is. Unfortunately, like most things I attempt to do (draw, play trombone, sing, crochet, knit, write) I love doing it, regardless of my insufficient skills and abilities, so I attempt it anyway. However, because I have no natural skill, I follow recipes to the letter and am very mechanical about it: exact measurements, temperatures and cooking time. I don’t waver, as I have no sense of what is too long, too much, not enough, or in need of tweaking. At best, my dishes come out a pale, bland comparison to what the recipe is intended to make; at worst, it is inedible slop and we have to toss it and order out. For some reason, Jeffrey continues to be a willing
victim participant in my cooking attempts, and tries everything I make, always insisting that it is not as bad as I think it is and sometimes even assuring me it is good. Last night’s dinner (Rustica) fell in the category of “better than I expected but nowhere near as good as I wanted it to be.” I did have some myself (just a small amount as I’m still wary about consuming solid foods, despite given the green light to begin eating normally by my doctor) and it wasn’t too bad. I could taste all the herbs and ingredients I put in, but it was all very muted so I think I overcooked the whole dish. Anyhoo, hopefully I got credit for the effort and intent, if not the actual execution.
It was definitely a good day, overall. However, all that activity yesterday left me feeling a bit overtaxed, so I’m going to hopefully relax and rest today before the new work week starts tomorrow.,,,if I can just keep my stupid get-up-an-go subdued for the rest of the day, that is.
*we own 2 cars, both are in both our names and we jointly pay for them but, as can happen, habits and preferences form, and one has become “my car” and one “Jeffrey’s car”. As I went to drive my car yesterday, I discovered my left rear tire would not rotate and I could not drive the car. I freaked out and left it for Jeffrey to handle while I took his. Turns out that, since it does not currently get driven daily – since I walk to and from work and Jeffrey usually drives us everywhere – it had gotten wet and rusted while sitting for a long period of time and just required some rocking and banging – per a mechanic’s advice – to get the tire spinning again – whew.
**As comic boxes get full and it starts to get too snug to slide more issues into a box, you have to shuffle the comics between boxes to redistribute them to make more room. Comics that are bagged and boarded take up almost twice the space that comics without bags and boards do; hence, as I re-bag and board them, I lose significant space within the boxes, requiring constant reshuffling.]