Day 207
Little did I ever imagine the prospect of being single in my 50’s. Long ago, when I met my husband, Tim (when I was less than half my age now) – the idea of being single 30 years later never crossed my mind. It was not an issue or even a possibility.
And yet, here I am.
Cancer is an awful disease. It takes very precious things from your life. Things that you took for granted. Things that were normal every-day life. Things that were forever … or so you thought.
And apparently it also has taken, at least for me, the ability to put together a dinner that does not involve standing in front of an open, full fridge and finding nothing but leftovers.
My question always seems to be – I don’t remember making this in the first place, how can I have leftovers?
But, alas, that is what I have … a refrigerator full of bits and pieces of whatever that never seem to cohesively combine into anything supremely tasty or satisfying. I watch all the Food Network shows and one would think that somehow (even through visual exposure) that I’d gain some knowledge about cooking. And it’s not that I don’t know how to cook … (okay, it kind of is!) … but that I’m more of a lazy cook. By the time I’m ready to put something together I’m so hungry I don’t want to take the time to actually make anything so I just throw together whatever is closest to the door or that looks still good enough to eat and not on the verge of being a contribution to my compost heap.
Sometimes I’ll put something quasi-decent together … a stir-fry, a sandwich, a veggie plate … being creative with the leftovers and end pieces of veggies I find in the crisper drawer. However, even after these 6 years I still am not used to cooking for one. I do best cooking for 10. I’m a dinner-party gal. It’s easier for me to find the time for others than to find the time for me … easier cooking for others than cooking for myself.
I do make good salads but, seriously, how hard is it to throw lettuce and a few croutons and whatever into a bowl? But there are many nights, like tonight, when my 10pm dinner ends up being a ramekin of pork and beans, half an ear of corn and a tomato (or some other leftover oddities). Not exactly nutritional. Or appealing. But I guess it’s better than ice cream and potato chips (which has also happened).
In any case … I’m trying to be better. I’m trying to allow myself to be a priority. To allow myself time to actually make something yummy and decent at a quasi-normal dinner time – even if it is … leftovers.