While walking down a slippery hallway in the office yesterday, I fractured my foot! Am doing my best to be thankful that it’s not a sprained ankle with a long recovery period on crutches, but just a few hours into the mandated weekend RICE (rest, ice, compression and elevation), I find myself dreaming up all the things I could be cooking if I had some ingredients in my pantry:
If I had eggs, I could make some homemade pasta while sitting at my table.
If I had dates, I could make Easter maamoul (stuffed semolina cookies popular in Lebanon).
If I had yeast,I could make bread.
Thinking up ways to spend the day cooking when you can neither stand for long nor go out and get ingredients doesn’t seem like the brightest way to channel one’s energy, but there it is.
I can’t help but wonder: how is it that turning your thoughts away from the things you miss can sometimes take such great effort? No cycling for me: had to cancel my first raining ride of the season this morning, missing too the cherry blossoms on the Drives. No restaurant hostessing means no random chit chat with strangers who love great Italian food and no entertaining drama from the boys. No wandering around Center City licking a springtime gelato from Capogiro … sigh.
Writing purges thoughts, right?