Organizing, new life on old, emotional support chicken

Saturday morning I cleared out another cabinet, disposed of many useless small bags, found tinfoil, and, best of all, I found all my hand tools at the back of the dark shelf. I'd been wondering where they went. 

Then I went for a different walk, I always like to walk a circuit, not retrace my steps, and on the way around, found this dead tree which has become a host for many lichens, flourishing and growing 

After lunch I had an unscheduled nap while listening to Meghan O'Rourke's The Invisible Kingdom, a wonderful book, read by the author, about chronic illness and her search for understanding and health in a medical environment which produces indifference and little help.

Then I remembered the yes2next August challenge and did this routine, lower back stretches 

These are floor or bed stretches, depending on your ability to get up from the floor. They're familiar to most of us.

Later I looked out and saw a young woman sitting on the grass with -- a chicken. It pecked around the grass and she stroked it, well, she stroked her, I suppose chickens being female. I wonder if this was a sighting of an emotional support chicken. Pretty trendy. It was a peaceful scene, the chicken quite calm around her while she was reading.

I didn't want to intrude by getting closer,  but here's the gist, chicken on the left facing her  

Then a few minutes later, this little flock appeared, pecking busily, until they were rounded up by the same woman.  They're small and very pretty.

Maybe weekend visitors.

I've been thinking about my deceased friend H. She was one of the most self sufficient people I ever knew. She grew up in the country, hunting, rearing chickens, growing vegetables, had her own driveway stand of eggs and produce at age twelve. 

She could do just about anything. Rewired her own townhouse to get cable on every floor, as promised but not delivered by the builders. She cleaned the dryer vent and the chimney, and had a wood fire going all winter, wood she'd split and hauled. Installed her own ceiling fans. She fished for the table, and was a good golfer. 

When the appliance people delivered but failed to install my dishwasher, she did it for me. When the thermostat went weird and the professional heating guy couldn't fix it, she came over and put it right in seconds. Just took it off the wall, blew a lot of cat hair out of it, it's worked perfectly ever since.

We had a lot of jokes together, including a scandalous imaginary development newsletter. I'll miss the color she brought me. I could tell when her husband and son were driving her mad, because she'd march in, unannounced,  with Abbie the little dog, and tell me "put the kettle on quick."  I think I helped avert a husbandandsonicide more than once over those cups of tea.

Happy day everyone, it's good to dwell on the good stuff sometimes. And there's always good stuff. Sometimes hard to find, sez 

Ted and Big Ursy 

Food, cleanup and at the end of the day sad news

Friday Michael the Transformer came and took away the kitchen doors and drawer fronts to refinish them and let them outgass across the street at his house.

He cautioned me to pace myself with clearing out, now that I can see what was behind the doors.  Hm. Not sure how that's done.

And an hour after he left, I'd sorted the two left cabinets 

So much easier when you can see what you're doing.

One thing led to another and I remembered the ginger in the fridge still waiting to be diced. Instead, having also remembered the microplane, I thought I'd just grate the ginger, skin and all, and dice what was left.

Now it's in the freezer ready to use. I don't like peeling and dicing ginger despite the lovely smell, so I think the microplane will be the go-to from now on. 

I was given it and thought I'd never use it. But it's so much easier than the way I used to zest lemons and limes, and now process ginger. 

I don't like prepping food at all, but do it because I need to. I do like the results though.

Then I went out and pulled out a huge armload of daylily foliage and dayflowers. I set them down to settle before carrying them to the woods to dispose of them. The front area looks much less wild now  

Then later I noticed a feature about items better made at home than ordered in a restaurant. One was about poaching shrimp in a court bouillon, which I'd never done.

I don't have any white wine but I had the necessary peppercorns, lemon slices, salt and you can use bay leaf but I used curry leaves.

I simmered this ten minutes, strained it, then brought it to a boil again, put in the shrimp, frozen, turned off the heat and poached for about five minutes. It's a couple of minutes longer than you'd use for thawed shrimp.

 

Poached shrimp, whole wheat toast, dipping sauce, summer supper. Another time I might put the court bouillon flavorings into a bag to make them easy to remove without straining.

I'd prepared this blog then I got a call from a local friend,  to say our longtime mutual friend died Thursday. She'd been sick and we'd been anxiously following her for news recently but it's still a shock.  

I went to visit her husband right away and at his request notified other mutual friends and neighbors.  She'd requested no services, a quiet private ceremony only.  She was in her sixties.

Three of my friends used to plan to be my caregivers in old age. I have now outlived all of them.  Please do vibes or prayers or what you do, for her widower and son. Her son has now lost his partner and his mother over just a few weeks.

Not a happy day, more of a getting through it day.  

Dog, morning glory and other company

 Yesterday I was planning on how to give the rapidly growing morning glory a place to grow, rapidly growing, that is,  out of the beginning pot.

The ground cover takes up all the planting space, so I have to do other things.

Earlier readers may remember my mini greenhouse caper, a while back, using a bag of potting soil set on a lid with its upturned translucent plastic container over it for a successful winter crop of greens.

I'm thinking of a similar idea with a bag of potting soil, one of these

pierced for drainage as usual, but directly on top of the ground plantings. No cover though.

You pierce the underside for drainage, turn it over, cut out a section on top  and plant into it. It works like a growbag. Anyway I'm going to try it. Placed next to the shepherd's crook it's currently hanging from, for a climbing support.

Without my interference, nature's doing a lovely job out front, some planted by me, all lovely, and look at all the green colors and tiny yellow flowers.

Yesterday suddenly exploded with company, with the warm weather and clean air bringing an old friend to drop by with her dog Abby. She's one of the few people I love to see without an invitation. 

Then Gary appeared on the patio, including my plants in his watering, so I invited him in, since he hasn't seen her for ages, though she only lives down the street. 

So he and Billy the Pup joined us, except B the P had to stay on the patio, shouting, because Gary wasn't sure about the two dogs together. 

Abby was delighted to pose for her close-up

Billy not so much

I did get my chicken roasted, after friend left, with a bunch of lavender.

Marinated overnight in yogurt and garlic. Great supper of buttered pita stuffed with salted chicken breast slices and fresh spinach. Can't beat it.

Then my Haggard Hawks puzzle book arrived, days ahead of schedule, and I tried a few beginner puzzles, succeeding here and there.

Full disclosure: when I put a puzzle on this blog it's always one I can, and did, do. I play fair. Which means there's quite a few that never make it into here. Although maybe I could try one of those, asking for help in solving it, come to think of it. What do you think?

So that's the picture Chez Boud today. I think puzzling might take my mind off my hurty neck. It's not the shoulder joint, or any joint, more likely, from the tingling and shooting pains, an irritated nerve. Not as miserable as last time, definitely, but nonetheless whineworthy.  

Happy day everyone, life's a puzzle, ain't it?