Week 44

It occurs to me that it is the 45th week of the year that will (maybe, if we're lucky) determine the fate President #45. I am nervous, I am weary, I am ambivalent, I am emotional, and I am fired up. 

During a week when I elected to not seek out the news, it still found its way to me. If I thought I could refocus on something other than Trump, the election or COVID, I was clearly dreaming. I was on a text string with friends who were fuming over the fact that our local newspaper ran an unsigned editorial endorsement of Trump (though it was clearly written by the paper's owner). Of course I couldn't help but read one of the columnist's responses, followed by the editor's, in which he outlined how unsigned endorsements will no longer run in the paper. Later in the week, I learned during a Zoom meeting that Spokane's top health official either resigned or was terminated. Meanwhile, I listened to someone I think the world of describe Trump as a man appointed by God who will bring this country together. I found out through another friend's tweet that future stimulus checks she desperately needs won't be coming anytime soon. I received 18 text messages from strangers about the election, voting and volunteering. 

It's not that I didn't want to know any of these things. I can't pretend to be a responsible citizen while ignoring the state of the world and my local community and how my own friends and family are feeling about it all, and how it's directly affecting them. It's just that I temporarily wanted to feel less distracted by it, and therefore less stressed out, and less saddened by the state of the the world. It was an attempt to reclaim control of what information goes into my brain, and to give myself space to sort things out.

And so instead, in the evenings, I sorted through my recipe binders. I took every recipe out of its plastic sleeve and reorganized everything in the most thoughtful ways I could think of. Soup recipes go together; soup recipes with butternut squash go together; vegetarian soups should be separate from ones with meat. Does bacon garnish count as meat? Yes, it does. 

Handling these old recipes from various points of my adult life was comforting -- the lemon chiffon pie I made in 2005 with Splenda for Dad, who was visiting with Mom for Thanksgiving at my brother's that year; the autumn minestrone I made when my best high school friend came for the weekend; the green bean casserole I brought to my boss's comfort-food birthday party; the skinny soup recipe I printed off a decade ago with the best of intentions and still have never made; the pop art raspberry ice box cake I made for my best college friend.  None of this was connected to the internet or any news source. Unlike with reading, where my mind can wander back to something else I read or heard earlier in the day, my brain was fully engaged in this activity. It was completely within my control. It was just what I needed.

And so we wait to see how things will unfold this week in ways that are out of our hands. I know that no matter the outcome, I will continue to mourn for this country, but I will keep engaging with it and working for a better version of it. I think of Rebecca Solnit's words from Hope in the Dark: "Despair demands less of us, it's more predictable, and in a sad way safer. Authentic hope requires clarity -- seeing the troubles of this world -- and imagination, seeing what might lie beyond these situations that are perhaps not inevitable and immutable." 

An extra hour of sleep couldn't come at a more perfect time.

Reading

 

I'm close to finishing Can't Even (Anne Helen Petersen) and while I continue to identify with it, I am feeling more and more fortunate, and a bit guilty, about my lot in life. I have taken so much for granted, especially my workplace, i.e., the ways it operates from an almost bygone era. With a few exceptions, it employs all of its workers (rather than hiring contract workers), and grants the same benefits to the custodians as it does the vice presidents. I've never taken more than 15 minutes to think about my healthcare plan each year. Though I won't receive a pension, I've built up my retirement with one of the best employer matches I know of (until recently, due to the pandemic). And for the most part, I'm not expected to work over the weekend, or check email. I may complain about managing our social media accounts and how they never really allow me to truly unplug, but it's rare that I spend more than 20 minutes per day checking on things when I'm not technically on the clock. I know if something is truly urgent, my boss will text me, and she never abuses that access. My coworkers feel a lot like family and we take time to check in on each others' lives.  This could not always be the case, and I'm appreciating it more than ever.

Also, check out the new Little Free Library my neighbor just installed...all the books inside are about Godzilla and Dracula. 

Recipes

It was risotto Milanese on Sunday, compliments of Joel -- a treat and a dream of our travels. I also made my annual tradition of molasses spices cookies, which I believe are my favorite cookies of all time. Otherwise it was fried tilapia and slaw one night (inspired by this) and a red lentil soup from the Instant Pot with homemade sourdough and salad. 

I'm trying to learn to tolerate, maybe even enjoy, radicchio, because it keeps showing up in my CSA box. I am generally not averse to bitter greens, but this one has always been challenging. Then I learned if you soak the leaves for 20-30 minutes in ice water, they lose some of their bitterness. I tried a Martha Stewart recipe for a radicchio salad with chopped lemon and mint dressing on Saturday night and it was actually very good. 

Making

This has become the boring-est category on here, but I'm pleased to report that I made significant progress in my sweater by tackling the most complicated part where you join the sleeves with the body, essentially converting three tubes into one big one. It should be smooth sailing from here on out.

Watching

We have been watching so much Schitt's Creek that we are starting to talk like Moira, Alexis and David. We only have a few episodes left and I'm making plans to fill the void with the latest season of the Great British Baking Show. 

On Halloween night, we watched Blackbird (trailer), starring Susan Sarandon, Sam Neill, Kate Winslet, Rainn Wilson, and other recognizable actors, about a family who is gathering one last time around their mother/wife/friend (Sarandon) before she ends her battle with ALS. Somber, for sure, but worth a watch. We followed it up with a very palate cleansing viewing of Clue from 1985. 

Listening

I found the perfect song (and album) for the week, specifically for my windy walks on the bluff. 

Glory by David Crosby

...And when the weight
is layered in rounds
like clouds
you can't find your way out

Let me be your glory in the sky
Circling your shadow
Cradling the light