BrownBear of Shadow

It seemed like a long day. I woke up at a reasonable hour, when there was some light in the sky. I have to give my dreams some props. Lately, I've had several where there was actually a lot of kindness going on. The only part I recall clearly from last night was driving down a rutted road to a campsite that was on the wrong side of the river. I was planning to cross over by climbing along the side of a bridge, because I didn't want to swim it and get wet. But there was a cat in the water who wanted to get out, so I leaned over precariously and scooped him out. I was trying to get him to climb up onto the bridge. "Go on, get up there," I exhorted him impatiently. "You're going to make me fall in if you don't hurry up." Finally the cat made it up onto the bridge, and so did I. He was a very cute cat--the kind that is white with a few black spots, one of them a rakish pirate patch over one eye. If I saw a cat like that in real life, I would certainly help him across the river.

Today I used my window of opportunity to cook something that wasn't noodles. I wanted it to be ready ahead of time, because I had an appointment to get my eyes checked at 4, and I knew I'd be hungry when I got home. It was also my secret plan to make something Dr. Nurse might find edible with her pregnancy tummy, because Mr. Dr. Nurse was coming to give the Sparrowhawk a piano lesson, so I thought I could send some home with him. I cut up some chicken breast and marinated it with fresh lemon and lime juice. Then I got the big red pot and sauteed some chopped up mushrooms and onions, plus a baby bok choy and some basil leaves--a mirepoix of sorts--and then sauteed the chicken, took it out of the pot and sizzled two cups of rice in the juices--to open it, as they say when you're making risotto--and then put everything back in the pot along with three cups of chicken broth mixed with sour cream, for the rice, and some dried thyme and basil. I put the lid on and shoved it in a 350 oven for about 45 minutes. Meanwhile I made some green beans and salad. I sat on the porch and read The Gods of Mars while the Sparrowhawk had his piano lesson, then boxed everything up and put it in a bag, along with some salty crackers, for Mr. Dr. Nurse to take home. I hope it works for Dr. Nurse. I usually cook with more zest, but I wanted it to be simple and soothing.

Then off to the optometrist in the pouring rain. Alas, disappointment--no glasses today. The optometrist--very nice and very capable--said a lot of the distortion is due to a cataract that is bigger than last year, so she wants me to visit the ophthalmologist first and see if it's time for surgery. Because if so, then my post-surgery prescription will be totally different. I also have to get checked for glaucoma, because my mother had it, and my intraocular pressure is still normal, but it's up at the top end of normal. That's not what I wanted to hear, but I appreciate all the wonderful diagnostic tools they have these days. Yeah, yeah, I'm trying to be cheerful, but I'm disgruntled. More fuss and bother. Do Not Want.

Anyway, when we got home, there was our share of the experimental meal, and it was pretty tasty and soothing. Good enough for a cold rainy night.