Life slowly is returning to normal. If there is such a thing as normal to any life, it usually means no great ups or downs. We like to think that that is normal. Those are usually the halcyon days that exist only in our minds.
I found my cell phone. Eric had the bright idea of dialing the number. Since I was in his taxi, I could hear it ring but I couldn’t answer it. He said it was a good sign that no one was using it. That made sense. When I got home, I dialed the number again and found my phone in the bathroom next to the sink. I suppose that made sense, too.
This month when my bills start coming in, I am responding to the advice from several of my readers and going to the bank to make arrangements for automatic payments. That means I won’t have to wrack my brain to remember what I forgot.
My son left, such a happy dental tourist that I think I will try his dentist, although I don’t think she will enchant me as much as she did him. After he left, I tried to remember what my daily routine was.
I finished the monologue I had written for the next Little Theatre Group presentation, “The Stuff that Dreams are Made Of.” The program will consist of monologues by members of the theater about, of course, their dreams. The dates of the production are June 17, 18 and 19.
Once again at loose ends, I did what I usually do when I don’t know what to do – head for the kitchen. This time I noticed again the bag of dried apricots that have been sitting on the counter for a long time. I didn’t enjoy them because they were like chewing orange rinds. So I looked in my trusty Joy of Cooking book for a recipe. There I found sauce cockaigne. Every time I’ve heard the word cockaigne associated with food I have been curious. So I checked the recipe. Simple enough.
Cook two cups of dried apricots in 1 1/4 cups water until they are easily stirred with a whisk. (Easier said than done.) Add 1 ½ cups sugar, dissolve and add 5 cups crushed pineapple. Bring to boil and store in jars in the fridge. Serve with whipped cream, ice cream or pudding.
My apricots eventually needed the food processor to be able to be whisked. I added a little nutmeg and when it was done, tried the sauce on some ice cream. It was okay, but I preferred my own concoction I used to make:
Heat equal parts pineapple and apricot preserves. When hot, heat 151 proof rum and pour over the preserves. Light the rum and serve over dishes of ice cream while still flaming (pouring from the cooking pot).
I just didn’t know it was called sauce cockaigne.
I don’t think the cloud has left its position over my head just yet. It is the first of the month and I, like other unfortunate subscribers to Amnet are without network channels for at least two days. And Wednesday was one of the nights that instead of showing the Public Broadcasting News Hour, we got to watch (for the entire hour) a young woman thinking and fussing with her hair. Then my 3-year-old TV went black and refused to come to life. Even my wizard friend James couldn’t revive it. I think it was suicide.
My neighbor came to the rescue by lending me his extra flat screen, more versatile TV for an indefinite time. James took the bulky dead TV away. Just a reminder of how soon we are replaced and forgotten. Especially if we are something electronic. It makes me feel good to say that because I have, as they say, a few issues with electronic gadgets.