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Last night's party...
Dec. 9th, 2017 12:48 pmIt has never been my intention to meet the end of life "thoroughly used up, totally worn out" (as Hunter S. Thompson put it) but neither has it been to arrive "safely in a pretty and well preserved body" (that wasn't going to happen anyway, starting around three decades ago).
That said, the opening paragraph above is too good to throw out (especially since every word of it is true), and the reason it ought to be thrown out is because it does not match the rest of this post.
Last night, you see, we held a get-together for the Spanish group that I've been connecting with these past several Wednesday mornings. Galina and I did not spare details. We cleaned up the dining room (no mean feat these past months), we brought out the good china and glassware, and I put together two dishes: my patented Moroccan-style vegetarian stew made of butternut squash, sweet potato, zucchini, and garbanzo beans, and pot roast for the meat-eaters.
Among my major achievements was not to sweat the small stuff (and yeah, there's always small stuff, such as inviting everyone for 7 pm and then timing my cooking for 6 pm—somehow, everything worked out anyway). Among my minor achievements was being able to watch other folks quaff alcoholic beverages (forbidden to me under this most recent chemo regime) without feeling a tinge of regret. This suggests we're good to go for putting on a similar New Year's party for our Russian friends.
In other news, the edited first cut of the memoir has grown to nearly 60,000 words (which suggests this phase is around 75% complete). Go me.
Cheers...
That said, the opening paragraph above is too good to throw out (especially since every word of it is true), and the reason it ought to be thrown out is because it does not match the rest of this post.
Last night, you see, we held a get-together for the Spanish group that I've been connecting with these past several Wednesday mornings. Galina and I did not spare details. We cleaned up the dining room (no mean feat these past months), we brought out the good china and glassware, and I put together two dishes: my patented Moroccan-style vegetarian stew made of butternut squash, sweet potato, zucchini, and garbanzo beans, and pot roast for the meat-eaters.
Among my major achievements was not to sweat the small stuff (and yeah, there's always small stuff, such as inviting everyone for 7 pm and then timing my cooking for 6 pm—somehow, everything worked out anyway). Among my minor achievements was being able to watch other folks quaff alcoholic beverages (forbidden to me under this most recent chemo regime) without feeling a tinge of regret. This suggests we're good to go for putting on a similar New Year's party for our Russian friends.
In other news, the edited first cut of the memoir has grown to nearly 60,000 words (which suggests this phase is around 75% complete). Go me.
Cheers...
