Meatain

There is now a mountain of meatballs in the sauce. There is enough sauce and sausages and braciole and pork tenderloin and meatballs and mushrooms and pepperoncini to feed the Third Marine Division or one hungry Italian family. It all amounts to about eight quarts and is reposing in the refrigerator. Luckily I have more pasta than the Ronzoni family does. It is not hard to predict what the menu is going to be for a long, long time. Someday I am going to learn to cook for just one, (sure I am). I will freeze some but I don't know how all of those meats will react to freezing.
The Illiad has a most interesting concept. The concept that prayer follows sin and avarice and pride around the world, a grey, sad lackey to misdeeds. It reminds me of the Flip Wilson routine wherein the Devil tells the minister "Without me, you wouldn't have a job.". People pray for forgiveness. "I am sorry, I didn't know, please forgive me.". What they are really after is mercy. "I knew it was wrong, I deserve to be punished but please have mercy.". Prayer for the wellbeing of others may be the only valid prayer. There is an obverse to almost every situation.
Christmas comes to mind. It is Jesus' birthday, so we all get presents. How would we feel if, on our birthday, all of our friends and relatives gave presents to Jesus instead of us? Dickens comes to mind and the child nestled in the robes of the future.
That a child anywhere in the world should be hungry while I enjoy the cornucopia of America, makes me think that I need mercy more than forgiveness. That a child in America should be hungry is a sin that, someday, someone will have to answer for. Wall Street got mercy, Main Street needs some compassion.

When in Doubt

Yesterday was another day of tissues and hot tea and an ennui that just won't let go. I spent a significant amount of time on my porcelin throne. I am the king of that small room.
Ambling around, mumbling to myself, I resorted to my time honored solution. "When in doubt, Cook!". I made another attempt at Lidia's Sunday sauce. It may have been successful. The sauce is fine and the sausages are fine (as always) but I haven't tried the braciole yet. The braciole needs a few more hours simmering in the sauce. I haven't made the meatballs yet but I will attempt that today. They only require an hour in the sauce and I just ran out of energy and wasn't looking forward to grinding the beef and pork. So I hope that by the end of the day that the meats will have all melded together and the braciole will be acceptable. The last time that I made it, the beef slices were too thick but this time I sliced them very thin so I could forego the pounding. The only thing that I left out was the prosciutto as that would require a trip to the grocery store and, Lo and Behold, I just wasn't up to such a trip.
Kristen, I was so touched by your description of that boy's birthday purchases. Please let me know how I can join your compassionate endeavor. If the rest of the world were more like you, I would have to begin an intensive search for something else to be morose about.

Scores

Illiad 1. Soup 0.
Pot Roast, mashed potatoes, and green beans 10.
Port 5.

Times

There are times that are sad, there are times that are glad. Then there are the times that are just in between both. The word ennui comes to mind but I don't really remember what it means. That is a big disappointment because more and more I cannot remember what a word means. I used to know the meanings of a lot of words but now they are just dusty shadows lurking in the depths of my memory. As a test, I just tried to remember the name of the monster in Beowulf. After several minutes, Grendal came roaring back. That exemplifies the memory troubles that I have. I can remember most things but it takes minutes or seconds or hours or days to access the memory.
Yesterday was a typical no 1's or 10's day. I had big plans for things that I have to do but I am re-reading the Illiad. This time I vow that I will finally finish it. I have started reading it so many times over my lifetime but I don't recall ever finishing it. So the day progressed with the Illiad, a nice pasta and sauce and sausage meal, a nice glass of port, and a nice nap that lasted way too long. When I awakened, I watched the Moon progress along the window pane for quite some time.
The day had no 1's (depression) or 10's ( the exhilaration of watching my children grow) but was a nice even 5. A long time ago I was diagnosed with depression. The Doctor said it was Typical Scandanavian Depression. He got me some pills, one of which I called the Pajama Pill. I had to already have my pajamas on when I took the pill. I stopped taking it because I was afraid that if the smoke alarm went off, I would not hear it and I had children living with me at the time. That was a typical time of 1's and 10's.
I went for a longer walk yesterday. The air was slightly crisp, the leaves were crunchy, and Nature's palette was spread over the ground. I watched the waterfall and listened to its gentle roar. I breathed in its musky, moist air. It was a good day for walking.
Today will be another try at making a decent soup. I have all of the ingredients that I will need and still have some port. Still, I can hear the sirene sound of the Illiad in the background. Life is 5 and 5 is good.

Pot Roast.3

I tried pot roast again. This time I used a rump roast. I left the meat in the oven too long and produced a nice large beef chip. The gravy was another story. It is fantastic. Red wine, beef stock, herbs, celery, carrots, onions, garlic, and a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar produced a slurry of ambrosia.
I have a new treat. Instant mashed potatoes with garlic are wonderful and don't require hours of clean up, just one pot to clean.
Today will be a day of experimenting. When I was at the grocery store (I genuflect before entering) I got some leeks and a fennel bulb. I will see what tasty treats lurk in those green wonders.

Thank You

One of my daughters, the Angel of Arlington, is keeping a log of all of the things that she is thankful for. I have a small list also and she is at the top of the list, along with her siblings. Each morning, when I wake up, I am thankful that I see the ceiling and not grass roots. I am thankful that most of my parts still work.

Yum

The chicken mozzarella has become a problem. It has morphed from a tasty treat to an obsession. Each day I can't wait to sink my teeth into the crunchy brown and black cheese. Olives, pepperoncini, peppers (some green, some spicy),mushrooms, artichoke hearts, onions, garlic, tomatoes, and olive oil bathe the chicken bottoms as the tops crisp up under the broiler. The whole conglomeration goes over linguini and is topped with roasted red peppers.
With belly bulging, I have a new treat. There is a new program on PBS. It is called "Sherlock Holmes in the 21st Century". It is surprisingly entertaining. The plots are a little strained but the lead actor brings a whole new dimension to the character of Holmes. Holmes with a sense of humor is an entirely new concept. Mycroft is slim and sinister, Watson has abandoned his supplicating adoration, Scotland yard recognizes Holmes's talents, and Watson's new paramour seems destined to replace Irene Adler.
Moriarity still lurks in the backgound and Holmes has mastered computers (who but a computer himself could obtain such dexterity?). One of the touches for updating the stories is that Holmes no longer smokes. He wears a nicotine patch. While pondering one especially tangled question, he remarks "Hmm, this is a three patch problem.". The clues and explanations come fast and furious and the show is amusing and exciting all at once. So, each Sunday at 9:00 P.M. I have a new appointment to go along with Thursday's Big Bang Theory. Humor and thought combined, it is about time that I got to enjoy the frosting on the cake of life.