March 2, 2009 by 8junebugs
There is snow on the ground, a cheerful fuck-you from Mother Nature, who I believe is in cahoots with Punxsutawny Phil, that furry little bastard. Normally, I’m all about the snow, but now I am losing optimal training days for the Avon Walk, and losing training days translates into panic and possible pain.
Neither of which adds to the Walk Experience.
I did get a fair amount of sleep over the weekend, and spent some good hours sipping cider at a pub with friends. It’s hard to be grumpy with live Celtic music, even if you’re not sure how loud is too loud when you’re talking over it…and over the 40 other people in the room.
Going deaf is even more of a pain in the ass in bars. Have I mentioned that? That I’m a trifle deaf in one ear and even more deaf in the other? I’m working on fixing it — I’ve had it evaluated before and the diagnosis is otosclerosis. Assuming the next appointment doesn’t change that, I’ll have a little outpatient surgery on the left ear this spring and be able to hear low, mumbly tones again. Eventually, I’ll likely have to have the same surgery on my right ear; right now, though, that’s the good ear.
I know a woman with the same condition who is opting to wait on surgery until after she has a kid, the prevailing theory being that the condition is worsened by pregnancy anyway. I think that sounds eminently sensible.
So what really cheered me up? Two things: Having a good cry over a cookbook, and hearing that there’s another wedding in the future.
Who cries over a cookbook, you ask? Most of the people who have already finished reading A Homemade Life: Stories from My Kitchen Table, by Molly Wizenberg, that’s who. Having read her blog, Orangette.com, for years, I pre-ordered this cookbook-cum-memoir last May and am not even put out that a chick a year younger than me is somehow old enough to have a memoir.
Oh get with it, Clairee. This is the eighties. If you can achieve puberty, you can achieve a past.
Molly loves food in very much the same way I love food, I think, but she expresses it far better. (Alicia — she also hates the whole idea of a secret recipe.) The book follows her first 30 years and dishes up the important recipes from them in such an open, honest, personal way that you can easily imagine Molly is baring her soul at the kitchen table, over scones and hot chocolate.
Most of the important stuff that happened in my childhood happened around a kitchen table…usually Grand’s. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t cook worth a damn, although she had a couple of go-to recipes (doughnuts, chocolate glaze frosting, no-bake cookies…). That just happened to be the center of our universe, so the title of this book alone probably would have sucked me in.
Anyway, Molly came to writing about food after she lost her beloved father. To cancer. Which she talks about in the book…and she is a very, very good writer.
It takes a lot of courage to admit, in writing, to relief when a loved one dies. It’s too easy to link that “relief” to being glad someone’s gone, and it’s not the same thing.
So I had a good cry. A very good cry that sort of made me hope the walls of my apartment are thicker than they probably are, because I didn’t want a concerned neighbor to knock on my door, ask if I was okay, and find out I was bawling over a cookbook. But I’ll tell you — it’s been a while since I had a book around that made me want to sit down and do nothing but read, and this did it.
It also made me want to cook something simple and delicious.
The new wedding on the horizon is my old friend sportik, who’s as full of love as anyone I know and has found happiness and romance in Australia. You’ll find her in the Framily links: The Evolution of Me. She’s followed an incredible path to get to where she is, and she holds a very, very special place in my heart. I can’t wait to meet Kristie, her fiancee — the happiness sportik has found with her shines pretty clearly in all the photos and emails. Hooray for true love!
Also, this settles the question of “We should visit sportik in Australia, but when?” May 2010, it is!