My Christmas is over, but, unbelievably, it is still Christmas. I have cooked a delicious turkey dinner, given my mother presents (she took me at my word that we were not exchanging this year), eaten dinner, and had after dinner drinks. I drank egg nog all morning, and now, with the first scotch, I am sleepy. My knee has given me fits, and at one point, I could not get it to "unlock," and as the muscles tightened around the joint, the pain was excruciating. This lasted for what I think was ten minutes. I don't know. I was making deals with God. I thought I would have to dial 911. Finally, after lying on the bed, I was able to get it calm. But since then, every step I have taken has been dangerous. I screamed out in pain many, many times while my mother was here. Calls for sympathy? Nope. Sheer, unmitigated, terrorized agony.
This shit's going to be bad.
My mother and I agreed that the buttermilk brine turkey was the best we've ever had. I'd like to thank the person who inspired the recipe. . . but I can't.
Scar the Feral Cat showed up this morning. . . thank goodness.
I fed her a can of food and some warm milk. After dinner, she got turkey juice with her dry food. She is good and fat for winter.
My mother and I drank a bottle of Vouvray and had some chocolate after dinner and were just too full to eat the pecan pie she had brought. I packed up take-home food for her, and she left in the late afternoon, just as some of you might have been sitting down for a family meal.
Now I am alone. It is too cold to sit outside, and I am not able to walk, so. . . I'm kind of stuck. I have had a semi-cold all day long, so I will take something to relieve the sniffles tonight that will help me sleep. Early. While it is still Christmas.
But I have had enough of that now. Let's have some Lonely Planet music. I want to be inspired to do something if I am ever able to walk again. Dry January is coming and some sort of knee surgery I am sure. I must get ready for Spring.
Isn't that what they say?
But I will meet up with someone soon on a romantic island. We will go to an enchanted bar and sit tete a tete. We must. I swear it could be true.