I don’t know why Monday still gives me the blues, especially since I’m retired and it’s just another day. I guess today it’s because all my “weather forecasters” are on full alert, and I have heard we will be having more of that 4 letter word white stuff tomorrow. I hate that stuff.
I can remember when I was a child and it was fun to play in the snow. Even as a young mom it was fun to play in the snow with my kids, making forts and throwing snowballs at each other. They always won, especially since the boys fought against Gina and me, and they were twice as fast as we were. I admit to being clumsy, and Gina fought like a girl, but I think the boys put rocks in their snowballs to give them an extra edge. Never found the rocks, so they were invisible ones, but they were there. I’m sure they were there.
I remember watching the boys racing around the house one day, with Don driving a three wheeler, motorized of course, and Mike behind holding onto a rope while wearing some water skis their uncle had given them. They did okay until it was time to turn the curve in the driveway. Water skis work great on the river, but on the snow, well, let’s just say, not so good. Poor little Mikey got his feet caught in the wide skis and went down, so it took them a few minutes to get the skis and ropes straightened out, and then Don put the skis on while Mike took his place driving. I laughed from behind the curtain while watching them, but after a few falls, I had to go back and pick up whatever I was working on when they started past the window the first time. Knowing they could be killing themselves out there was one thing, watching it happen was a whole ‘nother story.
I started my day out feeling a bit down, thinking about Sampson and the fact that I couldn’t convince his owner that I’m really not in any shape to handle him for an overnight stay, when the therapist walked in for my routine exercise program. They are always harder when the weather is changing, but I was really wondering how I would manage to keep a puppy overnight. My therapist took matters in her own hands. She called his owner and told her to come and pick up his cage or she would be taking it down to the office when she left, because I’m in no shape to take care of him right now. I hated having to do that, but the truth is, I’m in an advancing stage of MS, and dealing with the exercises and the weather changing effects of them, and just can’t take care of myself well enough to add a puppy into the equation. Later I’ll call her and have him in for a visit, but not an overnight stay.
I made a stewed chicken dinner yesterday and half the night. The veggies were cooked first in the crock pot, then the chicken, which was still half frozen went into the seasoned vegetable stock to make it a chicken stock. So now I have a huge amount of chicken and veggies to use dozens of ways. I’m thinking a pot pie, chicken and rice casserole, stir fry, and dozens more recipes from that chicken. Definitely some chicken salad. And I have about 2000 pounds left of the smallest cabbage I could find for St. Paddy’s Day that I need to use or lose, so that will go in the pot pie and the stir fry, and the rest will be steamed and frozen for use in soups later. The purple leached out of my potatoes and onions while they were cooking, but they taste wonderful, so it doesn’t matter in the long run. The stock tastes great and will make a wonderful gravy for the pot pie, as well as all the other dishes I have planned, and best of all, I won’t have to worry about choking, since chicken is one thing I can swallow without fear. Now just wait for it. After a statement like that I’ll choke on my next bite of chicken.