We've all been there. Little to no food in our larder and little to no motivation to go hunt and gather. So we make do. We scrounge around, dig into the bowels of the freezer or pantry and see what we can come up with. We use what we've got and make the best of it. Not haute cuisine, but edible.
It is clearly the second week in January. Initial enthusiasm for the potential of the new year has begun to subside and a kind of listless apathy has set in.
I ran errands yesterday, and I can tell you that there were crying children at every location and grim, if not sour, faces everywhere.
We have bored kids at home who, nevertheless, dread going back to school, and we adults aren't exactly doing back flips about going back to work. Even dot, my darling zippy Fiat, was more than a little irritated today when a big ol' unmannerly Escalade parked next to her at the post office.
I too have succumbed to the post holiday doldrums. I am trying to take the edge off my unpleasant, impatient disposition, (though Husband will tell you I haven't been too successful... far too insensitive to his recent invalid status after his New Year's Eve knee surgery.) We've come to kind of a blah stalemate for the moment; grunting to acknowledge each others' presence when we cross paths in the kitchen or laundry room.
Nothing to worry about, just a dreary little valley following those glitzy holiday mountain-tops.
January malaise if you will. Not a lot of smiling or sweetness or empathy left over from the season past, and not much inclination to conjure any up.
So we are forced to work with what we've got. Seasonal ennui and surly dispositions. Case in point:
I talked to my baby brother yesterday. (A snaggle-tooth schnauterganser if there ever was one! my dad would say. Baby brother is now in his forties with two front teeth, you will be relieved to know.)
(Snaggle-tooth is on the left. L'il Sis' twin, my other baby bro, is on the right. The Bears vs. the Colts. A house divided.)
Truly one of the kindest, funniest, caring men I know...
but, like the rest of us, subject to the occasional, testy, gray, irritable funk.
Yet here I was calling to ask him to deliver a rather distasteful message that would be uncomfortable for him (he, like me, has the disease to please) to convey.
Ever the wiser older sister, I counseled him,
"You're kind of in a ticked off mood at _____, aren't you? (..okay, another term besides 'ticked off' may have been used...)
"Yes", he responded.
"With kind of a rotten disposition right now?"
"Yeeesss", he replied, no doubt wondering where I was going with this.
"Then, by all means, now's the time to go for it! When you're not feeling especially kindly or sensitive. Just irritated enough not to be bullied or intimidated. A little uncaring, if you will. So strike when the iron is hot and so is your temper...cuz before long you'll be back to your same ol' sweet push-over self." (or crumble like a cookie as L'il Sis would say)
All the while thinking to myself.....when you ain't got nothing else, you use what you've got.
Here's to making the most of what we've got, everyone. And welcome to January.