Saturday, October 31, 2015

Double Double Toil and Trouble

Long ago, and far, far away, I was a much younger version of myself and I had the energy and the strength to work like a longshoreman - well, maybe not quite that hard. But I was commuting to the city from our home in Ronkonkoma, two hours each way, to work in the financial district, while going to school in Brooklyn in the evenings for my paralegal certificate, and working double doubles (4 parties each weekend) at the kosher catering hall. Oh, I got tired, but at least there were a couple of good reasons for it. I worked hard and I thrived on it. 

This morning, I woke up feeling as bad as I used to feel back then. All I had done yesterday was help James with the planting - maybe 90 minutes of placing little potted plants in specific locations  - and prepared the oxtails. And there was that bad landing, a single one-foot jump, that jarred every nerve in my body. Crap.

After sleeping ridiculously late, I crept downstairs and somehow got the spareribs into the BIG new eight quart crockpot.  It is 3:00 PM as I am typing this and I still haven't finished yesterday's post. I  also have to bake muffins, and while I managed to grate two carrots I find myself stuck in Stop. Any thoughts I harbored for doing some additional work in the garden got quashed before I made it to the bottom of the stairs.

I've also got that cognitive overload thing going on.  Noise is driving me crazy, and I'm not talking about fire engines tearing down Clyde Street, or two trains passing each other on the tracks down the block, or some stupid lowrider blasting dirty lyrics out the car window. Nope, I'm being driven crazy by the television at the other end of the house and barking dogs.  Hell of a time for my hearing to be working.

Somehow I managed to prepare the spareribs and the carrot muffins. Neither recipe is one I cooked up in my fevered brain. The crockpot ribs are a definite keeper (and I have made them before) but the jury is still out on the carrot muffins.

Recipes tomorrow. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

No comments:

Post a Comment