Month: December 2023

Rye Bread & Cooking for Myself

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Yesterday my daughter suggested that I might like to come to a school concert in which her youngest daughter was playing in the band. I decided that I could sit home and mope around or I could go to watch my granddaughter play her trumpet. I decided on the school concert.

Making bread, for me, is great therapy. After the concert we returned to Anna’s house to hang out for a little while. Eric had gone to a convention for collection of baseball cards and other baseball memorabilia. He is as is his son a fan of baseball. Eric was showing me some of his purchases. He was beaming with delight. I teased him about being a super fan. He replied that you have to have something that will take your mind away from daily things that are less desirable to think about. Those are not his words exactly but the intent of the words. For me that activity that takes me away is bread and baking and by extension cooking.

Yesterday when I returned from visiting Cheryl. I made Rye bread.This recipe from King Arthur is a favorite. Rather than find where I stashed it last time I printed it again and followed it exactly which is something I rarely do.

There is relief in kneading dough. It is much like getting a great back massage. There is aroma therapy from the oven as it bakes. There is anticipation removing it from the oven. There is blindness for a bit as the oven releases the steam from baking onto my glasses.

I set the bread to cool on a rack and went back to visit Cheryl who was struggling with resting and going to bed at night after having spent the previous night and early morning in the ER from falling Saturday night. With the nurse’s help I got Cheryl into her bed.

I am leaving in a few minutes to find out how well she slept overnight. When I left her she was laying on her left side as she did with me at home. I got a good look at the bruise on her face from hitting her head when she fell.

Breathe in. Breath out. Move on. Bake bread if you are able. Love deeply always. Take notice those around you who need help. Ask them if you can help.

Carpe Diem.

Gamache (Louise Penny) and Croissants

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“Grief is love with no place to go.” says Armand to a young killer. Amazon Videos has made shows out of several of the stories written by some of my favorite authors.

Watching one of these videos the other night while waiting for my croissants to fluff up for the oven, this quote jumped out at me.

I think I am feeling that these days. Baking can be therapeutic. It is a hobby I have perused for many years. When My sister came to visit a couple weeks ago I made her pot roast one evening. It was great and I used the leftover mashed potatoes in a recipe I have for potato bread. That turned out great. Something I have not tried to do but I now have the time for is croissants and other pastry.

Yesterday I made some croissants. (Why is there two sses in croissant?) Here is a image of my first effort. I took them to Cheryl this morning but she was sleeping.

I also need more practice with the croissants. The other half of the croissant dough is resting in the freezer waiting for me to become inspired to try it again. I think maybe a hotter oven and proof the yeast a bit when I start the dough. The recipe I was following used wet (cake) yeast which I do not have. Perhaps further experimentation with technique. These two out of ten turned out okay – not bad for a first effort.

Holy cow they are rich. There is a whole pound of butter in this recipe.

Carpe Diem.

A New Attitude

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My brother-in-law’s wife recently had some surgery to her neck and over the past couple weeks we have exchanged text messages and visits. I ask how he is doing and how my sister-in-law is doing. Often I send him my latest picture of Cheryl at Bridgeway Pointe. Yesterday we had the following exchange.

  • Thanks for sharing. Tari still has lots of pain !!! I am tired and frustrated !!! How are You ?? — 2:36 PM
  • Not tired and frustrated. With little to do for Cheryl, I think lonely and broken hearted. Is Tari home or in rehab? How did that turn out? — 3 pm
  • Rehab did not go well. Tari is home now. Waiting to see about Home Health Care. — 4:29 pm
  • In home physical therapy sessions? — 4:30 pm
  • I guess. Not sure. –4:31 pm

I wrote lonely and brokenhearted to him. It was the first time I admitted that to anyone.

I get up in the morning and realize again that I have no particular schedule. Nothing that I have or want to accomplish this day. Three weeks ago my day was centered around Cheryl. I made very few specific plans for me that did not include her somehow. I focused on getting her going, up and out, onward and into the sunshine. In the Autumn months when it is still warm, just four weeks ago, I conjured little trips to the places where we used to walk. I did carryout from a little chicken place nearby sometimes and we had a picnic. Her in her rollie chair and me waving the bugs away. In September I had my picnic supplies in the trunk of the car so that we could do that spontaneously (Carpe Diem). My main goal for each day was simply to get her out into the sunshine somewhere.

A new attitude is my goal today and the rest of my days. I need to be less broken hearted. Lonesomeness I think I can deal with. That feeling will come and go. Cheryl is safe and well cared for at Bridgeway Pointe.

Carpe Diem. Cheryl is safe and well cared for at Bridgeway Pointe. (Repeat)

(Repeat)

Sleeping

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This morning when I came to visit she was sleeping. I kissed her on the forehead my usual ploy when she was still home with me. It did not work this morning. I left her to sleep. I went home and invented an early lunch.

It was a Thai dish from Hello Fresh. It was quick and easy to make. Pretty good to eat and I have leftovers since I renewed the smallest amount which is two meals for two people.

I am back at Bridgeway Pointe it is almost 2 PM and she is still sleeping or she awakened and was not interested in eating lunch so she is sleeping again. As I was walking out the nurse told me that she had not awakened and had not taken her meds at all so far that day. She is off her schedule and very tired.

Yesterday afternoon she had lots of visitors. That kind of activity would often make her remain awake late into the night. Sometimes she did not sleep well at home. She would be very tired the next day.

Zonked out

This is that day. The night shift nurse was able to get her to take her 6 PM dose. I went to visit at 6:30 PM. She was still very tired but she had eaten about 25% of dinner by the nurse’s estimation. She is drinking very little liquid.

Carpe Diem.

Little Treasures

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For the past couple weeks I have been sorting through and pitching out much of Cheryl’s punding piles that she had squandered away all over her office area. Many of these are simply random collections of old and very old birthday and Christmas cards.

Today I discovered a small envelop with a picture that had been taken of us at a formal dance in 1969. A treasure it is to be sure. But the letter makes reference to me as though I know the writer. She sent it to Cheryl at her address in St. Bernard.

I have no memory of this event. I have no memory of Ginny. Ginny did not pass along her last name. She only passed along her address on the envelope. Who is Ginny? To be continued…

This picture so old that I did not have a mustache or old wrinkled skin or gray hair. I was eighteen and so is Cheryl.

Carpe Diem.

If She Was Home

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If Cheryl was home with me she would be on my case to get the tree up and drag in the decorations. I do not have the enthusiasm for that activity that she has (had?) every year. I wondered this morning if I really wanted to do that at all. I am gaining an understanding for why many who have lost people that they love deeply may not have as much enthusiasm for the holidays.

I will eventually put the tree up when I think I will be able to do that without tears coming to my eyes.

And that brings up a new/old theme I have not written much about. For the past year I have listened to a lot of instrumental jazz music. New age, Smooth jazz that has no ties or memories from my youth. It is soothing and calming. I suppose I have become a fan of elevator background music.

All the other music that Cheryl and I listened to, her tastes are much different than mine, I like rock, she likes big band standards. I like classical and opera and ballet. She does not. Nevertheless, much of that other music awakens memories and nostalgia. It is hard to see through the watery tears, so, I do not play it as much as I used to play it for myself.

So far, I have my Christmas tree on this blog. These are last years pictures of the tree but the Christmas cactus has opened its blooms for this year. I moved it away from the window that it was shining its beauty out of. And I have reread last December’s blog posts. (deep sigh here.) things have not improved.

This is a selfie from yesterday’s visit.

Carpe Diem