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Hollyhock of Leave
Sep. 21st, 2019 09:40 pmA few days ago, Kansas had a birthday. The Diva had hinted that he might like something from Zingerman's. Zingerman's is an amazing deli in Ann Arbor, Michigan, where I grew up and my parents lived for 50 years. It's terrifically chi-chi and expensive, but so delicious. The breads they bake are to die for, and their bacon collection is curated like the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Every once in awhile, for a special occasion, we shell out for something from their mail order catalog, which ships all over the world. So we sent Kansas the extra-large Reuben kit. It comes with some of the best rye bread ever, corned beef, and all the fixings and sides. We added two tubs of pimento cheese, because that's one of his favorites. The Diva sent us a picture of their kitchen counter with the remnants of the feast strewn across it. She said it was almost the best sandwich she ever had. Which caused the Sparrowhawk to ask, what was the best? She replied "The best sandwich I ever had was made with Mom's bread." This caused my cup to run over. So pleased they enjoyed it, since we couldn't be there to supply the feast in person.
I won't be eating sandwiches any time soon. Took a sample back to the lab, got my blood drawn again--they want to make sure my potassium levels don't tank again--took a nap. This morning I made some oatmeal and ate a small amount with a topping of yogurt. But I couldn't finish even the portion that I had. It's kind of weird. It's as if I'd had my stomach stapled. I've basically lost interest in food, which is very strange for me. I don't even look at things and want to eat them. I keep trying to eat a little, because I don't want to screw up my electrolytes. Tonight I ate one piece of toast and one scrambled egg, and that was really too much. I'm feeling frustrated. I worry that I'm acting like a hypochondriac, but I'm keeping track of everything so when I see the doctor again on Thursday I can argue with them that there IS something wrong even though they don't seem concerned.
I'm re-reading Joan North's three fantasy novels, which I was lucky enough to be able to find at library book sales over the years. I think they're delightful, and very underrated. The Cloud Forest is like Charles Williams for kids--Many Dimensions specifically, where the Stone of Solomon turns up in London--but without all of Williams' rather fetishistic nonsense about Chloe the submissive secretary. Ronnie, the girl child in The Cloud Forest, is anything but submissive. I adore her because she seems very much the kind of child I might have been. And she gets the vicar to give her an old sword he found in the attic! I would have swooned with joy.
Edited: Sorry, I had intended to give the name of the Williams novel I was thinking of, since there are seven of them, and without knowing I was referring to Many Dimensions, my reference to Chloe doesn't make much sense.
I won't be eating sandwiches any time soon. Took a sample back to the lab, got my blood drawn again--they want to make sure my potassium levels don't tank again--took a nap. This morning I made some oatmeal and ate a small amount with a topping of yogurt. But I couldn't finish even the portion that I had. It's kind of weird. It's as if I'd had my stomach stapled. I've basically lost interest in food, which is very strange for me. I don't even look at things and want to eat them. I keep trying to eat a little, because I don't want to screw up my electrolytes. Tonight I ate one piece of toast and one scrambled egg, and that was really too much. I'm feeling frustrated. I worry that I'm acting like a hypochondriac, but I'm keeping track of everything so when I see the doctor again on Thursday I can argue with them that there IS something wrong even though they don't seem concerned.
I'm re-reading Joan North's three fantasy novels, which I was lucky enough to be able to find at library book sales over the years. I think they're delightful, and very underrated. The Cloud Forest is like Charles Williams for kids--Many Dimensions specifically, where the Stone of Solomon turns up in London--but without all of Williams' rather fetishistic nonsense about Chloe the submissive secretary. Ronnie, the girl child in The Cloud Forest, is anything but submissive. I adore her because she seems very much the kind of child I might have been. And she gets the vicar to give her an old sword he found in the attic! I would have swooned with joy.
Edited: Sorry, I had intended to give the name of the Williams novel I was thinking of, since there are seven of them, and without knowing I was referring to Many Dimensions, my reference to Chloe doesn't make much sense.
