Monday, December 31, 2012

the prisoner wishes to say a word

In my favorite episode of The OC, Seth Cohen’s horrible aunt Hailey tells Ryan Atwood, “You know what they say? The way you spend New Year’s Eve is the way you’ll spend the rest of the year.” I wholeheartedly hope she is as wrong about that as she is about EVERYTHING. Because I’m sick today. And can’t do anything but lie around watching a mangled version of Braveheart on TNT because I’m too weak to get our DVD out of the chest (and definitely too weak to get the two-tape box set from the basement (old-school what?!)). Every few hours I have enough energy to try an internet cold remedy, but after the last attempt’s peppermint steam burned through my lungs and eyes giving me a pretty good idea of what Alex felt when he was OC sprayed (a form of pepper spray not to be confused with the aforementioned television series), however not alleviating my congested nose, I think I’m better off watching William Wallace be purified by pain instead of enduring it myself.
I guess we just had too many great things happen in 2012 to allow for one more night of champagne, celebration, and laughter with friends. Alas, it seems I’ll be staying home with Alex. He lucked out on his first week with both Christmas Eve and Christmas off, day shifts, and a three-day weekend, and is making up for that now working today and tomorrow.
On Christmas Eve we took in our favorite brunch—his and hers huevos rancheros a Nana—and enjoyed all the traditional family events through the holiday.
I’m trying to remind myself that his schedule won’t always be so easy and convenient, but so far the only change to our routine has been that I have a lot more time to get dinner on the table. The first night I cooked with the same urgency I became accustomed to using when Alex was home at 2:30 pm, waiting for dinner, and planning to go to bed promptly at 6:30 pm—and dinner was ready an hour before he walked in the door. Now that I’ve realized I have an hour and a half to cook when I get home from work, I’m ready to start using it.
Instead of the go-to vegetable hash and eggs (the quickest-cooking protein of all time), I branched into classic winter dinner food: bangers and mash with a thick mushroom gravy. It went really, really well.
We picked up the sausages from the Pleasant House Bakery stand (!!) at the farmers’ market. I don’t know what they put in those links, but the amount of fat rendered was astounding… deliciously so… too good to pour off… and ultimately made for a rich and tasty gravy. With this kind of nutrient-rich diet, it’s a wonder I’ve fallen ill.

1 comment:

  1. Among the stages of a cold (similar to the stages of grief), there must be one that requires the cold sufferer to look up great lines from movies: while you did Braveheart, I looked up great moments from Gladiator, Braveheart, and, god save me, High Fidelity.