Get your butter hot. Get your meat dry. Don’t crowd your pan. All are instructions from Julia Child tonight as she cooks scalloped veal. I knew these things, but I may have learned them the first time I saw this episode in the seventies.
After a brief appreciation for the technology, I realize I hate Zoom meetings. There is too much face time, too much consciousness about how one’s face looks to other people, too much self-conscious looking at other people’s faces so as to not appear to be studying one’s own face, and then there is the ‘who’s talking next’ pregnant pauses lasting weeks, if not months, while the coffee gets cold.
Overwhelmed by the fumes at Costco that entice people to buy wheelbarrow-size containers of chopped garlic, we mistakenly bought wine in a box today. You see, we thought the bottle was inside the box. But no, there was a bag in the box. Which my husband took out in his puzzlement about the box so at one point we were basically stuffing what looked like a wine udder back in a too small box. And then it was ‘how does the spigot work?’ We are a pair.
Tomorrow, the dog parks in Milwaukee will be open. So, after two months walking on leashes, our beloved sled dogs can tear off across the hills. We will be wearing masks but I can guarantee we will be the only ones. Apparently, we are the only people watching the news, seeing new Covid-19 cases everyday, and those cases aren’t somewhere else. They’re right here in River City.
We had our picture taken and even though this week has brought me some great sadness, which I might write about another time, the picture gives me great joy. It is of us and our two dogs on our front porch, the sun is shining and we are happy. We have had dozens of pictures on this porch, of babies and toddlers, teenagers, graduates, grandchildren. This is us, now. And the picture, well, it makes me feel glad and lucky. Even now, in the middle of a pandemic.