I stumbled out of The Cave (the Frenchman's new name for our wintery apartment), my head still filled with thoughts of spring foraging, to shop at The Wild Olive. New Yorkers, obsessed with snow-clearing, had salted the sidewalks and it was a snow-free trudge.
I found good-looking chard, and when I asked whether they might have any organic ground beef lurking, they said, Why yes, we do, and opened a just-delivered box. Beef from boxes... So I got that, too.
Back at home this was all turned into a vaguely Middle Eastern style pizza. No tomato sauce, the chard wilted with lemon and some salt, the beef seasoned with cumin, sumac and pomegranate molasses. The crust was especially good (I knew that because the Frenchman started putting butter on his), which is frustrating, as I just tossed, without measuring. Interestingly, I barely kneaded it. There's a head scratcher.
I work in the bedroom today. It's a beautiful, big, white room - I am so tired of the Darkness on the northern side. The birds on the terrace, which is beside the bedroom, delight me, and I can see them through the window. They actually sing! The snow is still deep out there. I waded through it in bare feet to replenish this morning's feeder. That was interesting.
There are drills and hammer-bangings in the walls. The landlord's never-ending yet intermittent construction project. Wasn't water torture intermittent? There is a new leak under the sink, the heaters come on in the wrong room, even if they are turned off, and I am fending off mental collapse. But we have a working buzzer after three months and tomorrow the awful bath will be reglazed. The cat will go upstairs to Wolfgang while they work - to escape The Men. Now if only we could persuade the shower to become more than a mere warm trickle. These things are sent to test us.
Then again, the forced narcissus bulbs on my desk are beginning to bloom.
So there is that.
* Wait, there's more good news. Our friend Frank has found a pig us to share. Locally raised and slaughtered. It will probably be from this farm. Conventionally raised pigs lead terrible lives. Don't eat 'em.