Most often, I like the day after an event or holiday. This is the time to exhale. The memories linger, the work is done. But this year, as I said, is different. First of all, I still do have a wisp of holiday before me. The kids and grandkids will be here this weekend. The cooking, baking, present giving -- I've done none of it yet. It starts Saturday and continues into next week.
But more importantly, I designated this day as the day I file all of my mom's papers for her eventual transfer out of the Rehab facility. This means that I not only have to complete filling out all requisite forms, but, too, I gather documents, make copies where needed and work with the staff of her current place on signing, co signing, notarizing and at the tail end, faxing it all out to the appropriate offices.
So this is my day.
On the upside, at the end of it, I'm done! Or, as the wiser staff member said -- now you sit back and wait for them to notify you of what they'd like changed. Or supplemented!
But you said I got it all perfectly in order!
They always want changes. Always.
Well, so on the upside, I'm almost done!
Did I accomplish nothing else on this warmish day after Christmas?
Well, there was the stop at the Seafood Center to pick up seafood for Saturday's dinner. This was actually great fun. I never go to the seafood shop because we get more than enough fish from our Alaskan CSA, and as for shrimp -- well, why bother when they sell perfectly fine shrimp at the grocery store. But today, I venture in.
In case you don't know your geography at all, Wisconsin happens to be a landlocked state -- though we are bordered on two sides by the Great Lakes, so we don't really feel far from water at all. But the closest sea is 1700 miles away. Going to a seafood store used to feel strange: by definition, nothing there is local. Still, these days, when they haul shrimp from Madagascar to serve at ocean side restaurants in France, you have to think differently about where and what you're eating. Sustainability, I think, becomes more important than locality.
Loaded down with all kinds of fishy things for the weekend, I come home and look over my to do list. Now here's an easy one: buy replacement cover for duvet on our bed. Sale time! Let's hit online shopping once again!
Unfortunately, Ed is right there by my side, adding his two cents. Or, more accurately, subtracting cents.
Do we have to spend that much on a duvet cover?
It's 75% off!
Still, let me find something on EBay.
There follows a wasted hour of looking at covers that seemed more suited for a college dorm room, or worst -- someone's idea of a place to chill and maybe smoke weed. You think I exaggerate? Maybe, but honestly, nothing, absolutely nothing good came from this exercise, except that I discovered that either Ed has terrible taste in linens, or he just does not care about their design so long as they're cheap.
And that's almost the whole day. Almost. I take time to prepare a grocery list for tomorrow and in doing this, I bring out my old spiral bound notebook to look up a recipe for a baking project for this weekend. The notebook never fails to make me smile. It's nearly 40 years old and many of the pages are hanging in only by a thread. Its contents are a history of my cooking triumphs and aspirations. They are clipped recipes that I found in magazines -- my main source of cooking ideas in years gone by. Back in the days, cookbooks were too expensive and so I rarely added one to my collection. But I was an avid reader of recipes in magazines. I cut out and taped in all that I wanted to prepare.
The tape has yellowed and so have a number of the cutouts, but surprisingly it still somehow survived heavy use -- all 90 narrow ruled pages. There is no order. Savory starts from the front, sweet from the back. Some of the recipes truly are of family legend stature. Katherine Hepburn's Brownies! Rosti -- a Swiss potato cake with bacon! Others I can only puzzle over: strawberry and champagne terrine (from Fine Cooking June/July 1998)?? What was I thinking?? Creamy Potato-Arugula Soup? Never made it. Thank goodness.
But mostly it is a life of cooking, summarized right there before me. Most items were tried and forgotten. Sort of like the every day tasks we take on and, having accomplished them, we move on to something else. Some are just as precious as dishes from the finest eateries.
You are wondering if I took any photos today?
One. At breakfast!
Tomorrow I will focus my attention on the coming weekend.
But more importantly, I designated this day as the day I file all of my mom's papers for her eventual transfer out of the Rehab facility. This means that I not only have to complete filling out all requisite forms, but, too, I gather documents, make copies where needed and work with the staff of her current place on signing, co signing, notarizing and at the tail end, faxing it all out to the appropriate offices.
So this is my day.
On the upside, at the end of it, I'm done! Or, as the wiser staff member said -- now you sit back and wait for them to notify you of what they'd like changed. Or supplemented!
But you said I got it all perfectly in order!
They always want changes. Always.
Well, so on the upside, I'm almost done!
Did I accomplish nothing else on this warmish day after Christmas?
Well, there was the stop at the Seafood Center to pick up seafood for Saturday's dinner. This was actually great fun. I never go to the seafood shop because we get more than enough fish from our Alaskan CSA, and as for shrimp -- well, why bother when they sell perfectly fine shrimp at the grocery store. But today, I venture in.
In case you don't know your geography at all, Wisconsin happens to be a landlocked state -- though we are bordered on two sides by the Great Lakes, so we don't really feel far from water at all. But the closest sea is 1700 miles away. Going to a seafood store used to feel strange: by definition, nothing there is local. Still, these days, when they haul shrimp from Madagascar to serve at ocean side restaurants in France, you have to think differently about where and what you're eating. Sustainability, I think, becomes more important than locality.
Loaded down with all kinds of fishy things for the weekend, I come home and look over my to do list. Now here's an easy one: buy replacement cover for duvet on our bed. Sale time! Let's hit online shopping once again!
Unfortunately, Ed is right there by my side, adding his two cents. Or, more accurately, subtracting cents.
Do we have to spend that much on a duvet cover?
It's 75% off!
Still, let me find something on EBay.
There follows a wasted hour of looking at covers that seemed more suited for a college dorm room, or worst -- someone's idea of a place to chill and maybe smoke weed. You think I exaggerate? Maybe, but honestly, nothing, absolutely nothing good came from this exercise, except that I discovered that either Ed has terrible taste in linens, or he just does not care about their design so long as they're cheap.
And that's almost the whole day. Almost. I take time to prepare a grocery list for tomorrow and in doing this, I bring out my old spiral bound notebook to look up a recipe for a baking project for this weekend. The notebook never fails to make me smile. It's nearly 40 years old and many of the pages are hanging in only by a thread. Its contents are a history of my cooking triumphs and aspirations. They are clipped recipes that I found in magazines -- my main source of cooking ideas in years gone by. Back in the days, cookbooks were too expensive and so I rarely added one to my collection. But I was an avid reader of recipes in magazines. I cut out and taped in all that I wanted to prepare.
The tape has yellowed and so have a number of the cutouts, but surprisingly it still somehow survived heavy use -- all 90 narrow ruled pages. There is no order. Savory starts from the front, sweet from the back. Some of the recipes truly are of family legend stature. Katherine Hepburn's Brownies! Rosti -- a Swiss potato cake with bacon! Others I can only puzzle over: strawberry and champagne terrine (from Fine Cooking June/July 1998)?? What was I thinking?? Creamy Potato-Arugula Soup? Never made it. Thank goodness.
But mostly it is a life of cooking, summarized right there before me. Most items were tried and forgotten. Sort of like the every day tasks we take on and, having accomplished them, we move on to something else. Some are just as precious as dishes from the finest eateries.
You are wondering if I took any photos today?
One. At breakfast!
Tomorrow I will focus my attention on the coming weekend.
