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I’ve got a jones for a home cooked meal…something warm and comfort-food-esque…maybe something deliciously savory paired with something slightly sweet.
Tonight I’m thinking grilled chicken on a bed of arugula, simply dressed with a lemon juice and olive oil vinaigrette…topped with toasted slivered almonds, somewhat thinly sliced asian pears and some crumbled stilton cheese…maybe accompanied by some crusty bread and a glass of white wine.
What do you think?
Yes, this is truely how the other half of my brain is occupied…the part not completely taken over by first downs and ERAs…I spend the other half of my brain waves on taste sensations, compiling mental notes on what would be best for dinner tonight, tomorrow night, the following week. Stalking food blogs and recipe sites…pouring over the random recipes that come in the coupon section (crunchy onion chicken, anyone) and finding ways to weave the mundane into something spectacular. It’s my favorite way to express my creativity and my favorite way to unwind. Cooking.
See, I’m not all stats and ballplayers…at least not all of the time.
welcome home…, originally uploaded by dharmabumx.
I just finished titling, describing and tagging roughly 80 photos in my Flickr account which cover one 2-day weekend (you know, your standard, everyday weekend) and two sporting events. One would think that all I do is attend baseball games, run races, tailgate, go to Redskins games, watch football on TV, dress my dog in football/baseball related gear, harass baseball players for autographs…in other words, one would think that my life is nothing but sports. This is not entirely true, although I’m beginning to realize how much of my summer has been spent chronicling my time at the ballpark and how much of my fall, at least on the weekends, is dedicated to attending, watching and preparing for football–fantasy or otherwise.
Which leads me to pose the question, when did I become sports chick extraordinaire? Is it that I’m finally at a place in my life, financially, where I can afford to attend all the sporting events my little heart desires? Is it that I find attending and watching sports a welcome release from the real world, thus avoiding talk of war, the economy, the environment? Is it that I truly do enjoy the company of men (particularly men in uniforms)…and attending said sporting events gets me that much closer to the action?
Tonight the husband and I will attend our final game this season at Nationals park and root for the home team that is rapidly approaching the century mark, and not in the way you would want them to. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed nearly every moment I’ve gotten to spend at that new ballpark this season in spite of the team’s lackluster record. This is the year that I really started following baseball, the stats, the players, the standings…and actually caring how the team did. I don’t know, maybe my interest in sports is a bit escapist…but is that really so wrong?
Absence is an interesting thing…you know you’ve completely adjusted to the bed-sharing aspect of married life when you wake up in the morning to find that the other side of the bed is totally undisturbed, right down to the throw pillow. The same thing happened while I was in Tennessee. I somehow assumed that I’d revert to my middle of the bed, occupying every square inch of the matress, head nestled between two pillows ways…but apparently not. Apparently I’ve become so conditioned to just sleeping on one side of the bed. Apparently my leg only wanders to the other side when there’s a warm body there, and the dog doesn’t count. Apparently I only hog the covers when there’s someone to be taking them from. It’s just not the same when you’re in bed alone.
Typically, when I’ve been apart from my husband, it’s been me who’s out of town. When I’m in another zip code, busy visiting friends and family or traveling for business, I’m not really alone, existing in the day-to-day grind of normal life. During those times, I seem to cope with the absence of my other half rather well…missing him but not missing him…In my element because I have many people to interact with. But back here at home, sans husband until Friday, I feel very alone. The house is empty. There’s no one to cook for, which causes me to revert to my singleton ways of eating, soup and sandwiches if I decide to eat dinner at all. Most of the recipes I consider making are based on more than one serving and I’ve never been a big fan of leftovers…I don’t think the dog quite appreciates my company in the same manner, although that doesn’t stop me from carrying on a one sided conversation with my canine companion.
I’m not good at this anymore. I’ve forgotten how to exist alone, really. It’s not that I lack the ability to function as an individual. Far from it. I think I just realized in the last 2 days how much I enjoy existing as part of a unit…I feel kind of lopsided and off balance without my other half and I can’t wait for him to get home on Friday.
