It’s true that I haven’t been well this summer, but looking around my kitchen this morning I realized what a good excuse this has been to be, there’s no other word for it, slovenly. However, I also believe it has something to do with age. Though I hate to admit it, in days of yore, meaning younger, even if suffering with a severe migraine, compulsive that I am, if the silver needed polishing, you can bet they would be polished. (Ours is now in the late stages of extreme tarnish)
However, in my defense, thinking about it carefully, does anyone realize how much time and effort it takes just to keep the toilet rolls and Kleenex replenished (Note: French TP comes in pretty small rolls and they don’t have Family Size Kleenex) – light bulbs replaced, the wastebaskets emptied, the trash in and out – bottles and papers recycled – clothes laundered – left-over vegetables turned into stew of some sort – and all this not even considering actually cleaning?
Fortunately, Bob has morphed into a rather good cook, so we haven’t been suffering from mal-nutrition. In fact he has produced some memorable meals.
Now more than ever I admire those Victorian and Edwardian ladies who went round with smelling salts hanging from pretty ribbons around their necks or waists, and at the slightest sign of anything requiring effort, reached for the nearest chaise and waved the scented salts under their noses.
I really am not in any pain anymore, and am certainly grateful, but I still have far too many blood tests - I keep asking, “Is there any left?” and the last ultra sound verdict was “Slow but favorable evolution under anti-coagulant treatment.”
All this I consider another good excuse to accept yet another generous invitation to dine at a friend’s home, with only a bare tinge of guilt that somehow doesn’t translate into specific plans to reciprocate. Only we, so far this summer, have crossed our doorstep.
All I am saying is what so many of the Self-Help books advocate: Think Positive.
CDB
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1 comment:
Dearest Cima, as much as I feel for you, I still have a slight grin on my face while reading your comments on the blog. Sorry, but I can't help it, you write so well, and I see poor Bob runing around, doing all the stuff for you ... but ... on the other hand, I really don't see the polished silver in your house! Why, what for? It doesn't fit you nor your beautiful house!
I wish you all the best, hoping they'll - those half-gods in white - get their acts together one of those days and you'll be your old, sorry, young self soon!!!
Big kiss and tons of hugs
Brigitta
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