Pot Roast and Pineapple Pie

It took me a few days to recover from the Maine trip, by which I mean I could feel it while doing everything I had and wanted to do.  I was a bit weak.  I’ve recovered now but it brought home to me that my fantasies of traveling with Woody to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan are just that: fantasy. Walking is till hard and hasn’t gotten easier yet.  I miss it.

We had a late-lasting dinner party Saturday night, which is partly why I’m late writing this blog.  Usually I write Saturday, but I was too busy – potting herbs and ornamentals, working on my garden, writing compulsively in my new book, writing a poem, cooking for Ralph and Gigi, Bruce and John Braden from WOMR, where Gigi is also very involved.  Bruce made a delicious pineapple pie and serve it with mango sorbet.  I made a pot roast with little potatoes, carrots, celery, parsnips from our garden, onions, garlic and herbs from the herb bed, cooked slowly in red wine. While I’m waiting till November 13th for have my back molar pulled, it’s getting harder and harder to eat.  Chewing can be painful.

Tonight I’m making flounder with brown rice and roasted Brussels sprouts. I know I can eat rice and flounder [a Portuguese dish I learned form a woman 50 years ago in Ptown] with bananas and dry Madeira.  I’ll find out if I can eat the Brussels sprouts. I hope so, as I am fond of them.  The boy cats had a good time as they are both real party animals and got a lot of attention from guests.  Willow hid, of course, until the moment the guests left.

I ordered a book on the history of the onion and 100 recipes, including very old ones. I was intrigued.  At least, it should be fun reading.  I’ve enjoyed Mark Kulansky’s books on oysters, etc.  He’s a fine food writer.

I’m trying to get my bedroom under control. It has been a mess since I packed for the Maine trip.  I got about half of it put away today. Tuesday, I’ll resume, as I work with Dale tomorrow. We had summery weather here for several days and then last night, I woke around 4, shivering.  It turned cold. I shut the window and Willow tried to warm me up.  I didn’t get much sleep after that, so I’m hoping to catch up tonight.

Woody brought in all I had potted so now the dining room and the bay windows are full of plants.  Soon, of course, some will begin dying.  I prepped the cloves and Woody planted the hard necked garlic we get from Territorial.  I turned Dale on to them also.

Why can’t Congress outlaw assault weapons? They have no use except killing as many people as possible as fast as possible.  The NRA isn’t what it used to be but politicians seem afraid of doing anything to make weapons less available to the next upset white male who is angry at everyone.  I don’t understand the pleasure of murdering a random bunch of people.  A feeling of power?  Look at me, I can kill with impunity.  People feel so entitled and get so angry.