Last Thursday night, before Jack was preparing to return to the University…
I am certainly no mind reader, soothsayer, or mental professional. Pasta on the Floor has always provided me with an outlet to share my thoughts, usually on the more entertaining side of life. That is difficult to do these days. Faces are clearly wearing concern, fear, and anxiety. I passed a dozen or so people on my walk this morning properly distancing themselves, yet their eyes betrayed them. They longed for interaction and communication, just as I did.
This post is long overdue. I have started and stopped it a dozen times. Each time I felt I had the mojo to write, another blow occurred. Not that I am alone in this surreal existence but let’s agree, it makes writing with a lighthearted look at life a teeny bit more challenging.
Walking clears my mind. I average 3.5 miles a morning sometimes alone, often with Chip. This morning I began to create this post in my head. Walking the familiar path near Shoprite, I was barraged with discarded gloves, masks, and sanitized wipes. They were stuck in the bushes, trees, and grass. I stopped counting at 20- I was saddened and my creativity lost.
How do you clear your head?
As a society, we long for normalcy and routine habits. In the absence of these things, what do you do to feel more normal? What do you do to self soothe?
- I am a closet speed freak. When I am stressed, I love to drive Chip’s car, Frederick. Last week I took an 84-mile drive on twisty roads and highways all the way north past Lake George, NY, Dunkin Donuts was calling me to pick up an iced latte and few things tasted better than that did on that sunny afternoon with the sun roof open. It’s just a car, right?
- For the readers outside the Capital Region, or outside of the country, Stewart’s arguably has the best ice-cream. A stop at Stewart’s for a Brew-ha-ha kiddie cone to pass the time on the next day’s ride was medicinal. (That’s’ my story and I am sticking to it)
- I went old school. In the basement, I uncovered my old 80’s boom box and my bag of cassette tapes. Score! Boston, The Rolling Stones, Joe Jackson, Peter Frampton- shall I continue?
- I can tell you one thing I do not do to self-soothe: meditate. The inner me decided to accept Barre and Vinyasa yoga but that is as low as I will let my heart rate go. Pandemic or no pandemic, the devil side says to drink my Death Wish coffee and do my cardio. Balance you say. Sure. I say Prosecco and cheese.
Did someone say cheese?
On many occasions, cheese has saved my soul. A charcuterie board on a Saturday afternoon with an exhibition of nuts, chocolate, fruit, Italian cured meats ….and cheese. Ahh. My heart rate just slowed to 89 bpm. Grilled cheese and polenta sandwiches on the grill- I’ll say no more. Burrata, Manchego, goat, truffle- I cannot stop myself.
I have decided to impart my cheese wisdom and add a series to Pasta on the Floor called Cheese Heals. This series will highlight a different cheese as it assumes its rightful place in my cheese grotto. I will review it and share possibilities for cooking with it or just plain paring it with wine.
I feel better now, do you?
We have a game plan now and I embrace guest cheese bloggers. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org to share your favorite cheese with the world. Tell us what you love about it and how you use it. It’s cathartic.
If anyone is feeling blue or needs to talk, contact me. I am always here for a virtual cup of coffee or chilled flute of Prosecco.