ceiling effect

ceiling effect
Shelter in place: links to tasty treats from A Raisin & A Porpoise
Shelter in place: links to tasty treats from A Raisin & A Porpoise

Maybe this is an overshare, but I have a mild to moderate herniation of the disc between L4 and L5 in my lower back, as well as some questions about who made up the scale that herniations are measured on, and a new respect for anyone living with a moderate or (the mind boggles) severe one.

Here are some insights and observations made possible for me by this exciting aspect of the aging process:

  • Twice in the last six months I have been laid out flat, in too much pain to even writhe, vividly reminded of the claustrophobic intensity of labor contractions and keenly aware that without a sense of purpose and ultimate reward, pain just sucks.
  • I have a really good sense of the texture and landscape of my ceiling. There are some mighty cobwebs up there!  Wow! Cobs been busy.
  • It is possible, with the right motivation, to overcome a lifelong resistance to medication and swallow enough pills to masquerade as a human maraca. I have heard that people take narcotics to make themselves happy and more creative.  This is puzzling, to say the least. It has not been my experience that my happiness and creativity are positively impacted.  More like: my brain feels like a cotton ball and the room spins very fast. Also, regarding prescription-strength muscle relaxants, this just in: brain is a MUSCLE!
  • The absence of pain is perhaps the most under-rated, under-appreciated, under-sung bit of fabulousness ever made available on earth.
  • There's more than one way to feel like a rockstar.  For example: you can drift around the house in a druggy haze and make nothing much for your children to eat except cake. In my defense, it was a birthday and it was also a really good cake. I like to think it was good parenting in the end, because I delivered the birthday cake within the internationally-recognized three-day margin of error and because I made a pretty compelling living tableau of "Just Say No" as I lurched around the kitchen.

In culinary terms, there is not much else to report on from my kitchen this week.  But the world is so full of a number of things! Here are some good things cooked by other people:

  • This bread is the antidote to everything and will knock your avocado toast out of the park.
  • This book is another gorgeous collection of naturally gluten-free, no-gums-required, no overworked-kitchen-scale-measuring-out-various-formulas-of-wheat-flour-substitutes, elegant and delicious baked goods.  I get the sense that the chef knows her way around a Brussels sprout, too.
  • Going to have to get well past the delirium before I attempt this pasta, but I look forward to trying. Her pumpkin mousse seems better suited to my attention span at the moment, and destined for a lunchbox near me before squash season ends.
  • Also before the last squash leaves the market, I want to find some GF grain that will stand up to this savory, green, gorgeous treatment because it looks like something I want to eat right now.
  • Before I don't want to see another hot soup as long as I live, I want to see this one.
  • After-school snack of the century, sounds like.
  • Tropical escape scones, for east coast humans a bit weary of snowflakes in all their mesmerizing glory.
  • Not edible, but the new catchphrase around here: Worry about yourSELF.

I hear from other zipcodes that spring is manifesting.  I am no longer a believer.  My new theory is that it will not stop snowing until the mosquitoes hatch, but I am open to being proved wrong.