Sunday, February 8, 2009
Ouchie Bunkers
Pretty adorable phrase, right? It's one that I've heard my friend utter many times as she's hoisting a thirty-pound bucket of ice up to chest-level. She suffered a shoulder injury that's been bothering her for several months, and while I've always had sympathy for her pain, now I'm living in straight-up empathy. I did.. something dumb to my body. Was it the six quarts of OJ I heaved up the stairs the other day, trying to prove to no one but myself that I was strong enough to do it? Was it an incident that involved about fifteen cocktails too many the other night and I just plain don't know what happened? Did my aging pillows finally get the best of me? All I know is that I woke up this morning, found I couldn't move, and it took me about twenty minutes to roll out of bed this morning - literally, twisting and rolling out of bed. I'd like to think I'm too young to fall infirm as such, but I may be wrong...
I've had plenty of time to think today. Usually my days off are committed to prepping, chopping, baking, sauteing, washing, and all the other physical maneuvers it takes to make this blog work and my life happy. But I can't crane my head to see my left shoulder right now, much less peel a squash or chop an onion. I realized today how bummed (by which I mean devastated) if someone one told me "I'm sorry, but you'll never play piano again. I mean, cook again." On the positive side, temperatures hit 50 today, or so I'm told. I took my gimpy arm and me out for a little walk today. From what I could see straight in front of me, the birds were going nuts and the snow was melting to reveal months' worth of trash buried in the drifts. Urban springtime can't be too far away! I realized I need to start thinking about launching my second attempt at a proper container garden. What to plant, and how to make it grow this year... the cilantro i threw into a pot did poke its head through the soil (I photographed its debut above), so I'm bouyed to think that I won't be left with little more than compost fodder this fall. Speaking of, my compost is in iffy territory. I've been adding to it tis winter, but nothing could prevent it from freezing into a solid brick organic garbage. I think adding some more browns will help, and hopefully I can soon start a hunt for worms to add to the mix.
All this made me super-doubly appreciate the simple meal I threw together tonight - leftover tomato soup that my sister made and brought me when I may or may not have had the mumps a couple weeks back (yeah, it's been a rough winter), and a baked sweet potato. I can't cook, but I can still eat well. Mike D said it best: It's called GRATITUDE!-And that's RIGHT!
Baked Sweet Potatoes
sweet potatoes (one per person)
olive oil
salt
pepper
Preheat oven to 400. Poke the potatoes in several places with a fork, lest they explode all over your oven. Place on a sheet of aluminum foil - they will leak their sweet, tasty juices and make a mess that you don't want to try to clean out of a pan. Bake for about 45min-1hr, depending on their size (they're done when the flesh is easily pierced with a fork). Remove from oven, cut in half and allow to cool for a couple minutes. Top with good sea salt, a grinding of black pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil.
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4 comments:
Owch! If I were you, I'd go out and get a massage ASAP! (That is, if you're into that kind of pampering stuff). I too had sweet potato today, one of the few things our dining hall can get right.
Oh I hope you are feeling better! Sounds like you need a hot bath and yes, maybe a massage!
Chris and Michelle, thank you! Actually, I'm feeling much better today, though one more day of maxin' and relaxin' seems in order. A friend of mine is a massage therapist, and I think it's high time I gave her a call...
Big fan of vodka shots for joint and muscle pain. Old russian dancer remedy
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