After an exhausting weekend in the valley
I came home badly in need of some
'me' time.
So,
Monday saw me retreating into my own
little world
I came home, poured a glass of chardonnay
put on some music
and started cooking.
To start the ball rolling
I made a week's worth Bircher Muesli
my version of warming up
Inspired by orangette's latest post
I roasted some romas for 6 hours
also roasting some french beans
carrots and mushrooms
all Frances Mayes's Bella Tuscany
When the veg was done, but still hot
I tossed in arugula,
baby cos
shards of aged parmesan
and caramelised onions.
A salad of wilted and roasted greens.
A drizzle of that famous ranch dressing
a sprinkle of cracked black
a weird concoction, I know
but it worked.
My weekend being steadily
dissected in mind,
I moved on the the chicken.
As I dusted double sifted flour
over my Tori Karaage
I begin to wonder
"Am I being too picky?"
"Am I too scared?"
"Am I even ready?"
I can't help being picky,
there has to be some standards
like somethings you know
wont work with you
and some that will
but i'm not leaving much room for anything
to blossom
or
for compromise or change
sometimes I don't even give it a chance.
So why am I so bloody picky?
Because I'm scared?
Yes, I think so.
I'm scared of complicating my
nice, orderly,
"do what I want, when I want life".
I'm scared of the feeling of vulnerability
I'm scared of hurting
I'm scared of getting hurt
I'm scared of letting my heart go
or dealing with the complications
and responsibility of
handling another persons heart.
So I dip my toes in
allow a little bit of something
to blossom
and then I scurry away
nipping it in the bud.
Calmly watching as
"what could have been"
ebbs away, yet again.
Definately NOT ready.
But oh!
there is so much that I miss
and so much that I don't.
I came home badly in need of some
'me' time.
So,
Monday saw me retreating into my own
little world
I came home, poured a glass of chardonnay
put on some music
and started cooking.
To start the ball rolling
I made a week's worth Bircher Muesli
my version of warming up
Inspired by orangette's latest post
I roasted some romas for 6 hours
also roasting some french beans
carrots and mushrooms
all Frances Mayes's Bella Tuscany
When the veg was done, but still hot
I tossed in arugula,
baby cos
shards of aged parmesan
and caramelised onions.
A salad of wilted and roasted greens.
A drizzle of that famous ranch dressing
a sprinkle of cracked black
a weird concoction, I know
but it worked.
My weekend being steadily
dissected in mind,
I moved on the the chicken.
As I dusted double sifted flour
over my Tori Karaage
I begin to wonder
"Am I being too picky?"
"Am I too scared?"
"Am I even ready?"
I can't help being picky,
there has to be some standards
like somethings you know
wont work with you
and some that will
but i'm not leaving much room for anything
to blossom
or
for compromise or change
sometimes I don't even give it a chance.
So why am I so bloody picky?
Because I'm scared?
Yes, I think so.
I'm scared of complicating my
nice, orderly,
"do what I want, when I want life".
I'm scared of the feeling of vulnerability
I'm scared of hurting
I'm scared of getting hurt
I'm scared of letting my heart go
or dealing with the complications
and responsibility of
handling another persons heart.
So I dip my toes in
allow a little bit of something
to blossom
and then I scurry away
nipping it in the bud.
Calmly watching as
"what could have been"
ebbs away, yet again.
Definately NOT ready.
But oh!
there is so much that I miss
and so much that I don't.
4 comments:
Well if I have time then I just go to the wetmarket for my greens,chicken,pork, if not Giant lor.I also get steaks from Giant. Muthu's for indian beef to use in stews.
Seafood, I used to get from this little shack by the sea, opposite Mar Vista, you have to park near the recreation center and walk down to the fishing village. But that was before the tsunami, dont know what its like now!
Speaking of ranch--It's a pretty good substitute for a tuna-fish salad when you are "mayonaisse-less". Good flavor,I added a little sage, black pepper and garlic salt, not five star but damn good! =)
Cousin darling, come and bloody visit!Come next year, we can then go vist uncle Glenn in the outback together..
we shall see, If I can play my cards right and have enough cash, oh and lose about 30 lbs so I can be more at ease lying on that luxurious sand...I'm there!
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