I'm feeling calmer with returning to my isolated lifestyle, which is both a relief and very disturbing at the same time. I wonder at those in my friends and family who seem to be returning to their pre-pandemic lifestyle, who have eaten in restaurants indoors, or gather freely and unmasked with other folks in their homes, while most of them seem baffled that I still feel vulnerable even though I am vaccinated. I wonder if I will ever feel okay again, if I will ever be able to live in the world with ease again, if I will ever be able to teach again, or any of the other parts of life that gave meaning and joyful interaction to my existence... I was chatting on the phone with my Mom, about how I planned to make a turkey thigh * roulade again this year, and she asked me if anyone was coming over here for Thanksgiving. Ummm nope, don't plan on any festive meals with friends anytime soon. I am sad about that. Am I delusional? Are those who have basically returned to life as it was before?
After washing out my impromptu jelly cloth (made from some of the linen "cheesecloth/muslin" curtain fabric) I folded it in half to make a square and serged around the edges. I'm thinking about folding over each corner just a bit, to make "loops" which can then get cordage looped through them for ease in hanging it up when straining fruit pulp. Rather like a burden cloth, but much smaller and more porous. After washing, the thrifted fabric is actually nowhere near as scratchy, and might indeed be useful to make an SCA summer undergown, which is why I originally purchased it.
※※※
beauty in the time of isolation:
Today was clear but cold, and as I've been allowing the rain to keep me indoors far too much for my own good, it felt like a pleasure to go outside and walk round in circles in the neighborhood, though I need to get better at judging how many layers are enough for comfort now that early winter has arrived. There are more varied mushrooms than I've seen before, and these, a few blocks from here, were by far the largest. The biggest ones were larger than my (albeit small) hands!beauty in the time of isolation:
※※※
Adventures from my sleeping brain: I found myself driving up the back roads in wintertime, headed to analog Seattle with my friend Maeva, on a quest to find some secondhand workshop tools. I suggested we stop south of Tacoma, to check the thrift stores, as we might have success without having to drive so far. The roads were really icy, and it had obviously snowed earlier in the week. When we overshot the Value Village, I tried to turn around via the side streets, which were in terrible condition, and not all in a grid. Managed to get the car turned around in a small parking lot without running into the parked cars. Tried to get back onto the main road, but there were children crossing the street which required stopping on a hill. With ice. Was trying to get the car moving again, but the wheels were not gripping well enough. For some reason there were pillows jammed into the footwell, that were interfering with my feet accessing the gas and clutch pedals. (dreamland is wierd) I kept pulling the pillows out and handing them to Maeva, while also doing my best to get the car moving in the times the light was green. It was super stressful. Then I woke up. Whew! SO many ways to interpret this, (as well as so many memories of the difficulty of winter driving, in Massachusetts, and Washington, and Idaho)
※※※
The batch of quince jelly turned out to be quince syrup. Not a problem, since I have about 5# more quinces, and since I use fruit preserves as a topping for greek yogurt. Apparently the website comment "it is done when it reaches 220°F" is a loose guideline, and I should have also done a plate test as well... The rest of the quinces will become more jelly, possibly some quincemeat, and if there is some left over, for quince paste, aka membrillo.
※※※
November SMART goals (x=extra)
| # | THINGS MADE | THINGS FIXED | THINGS GONE |
| 1 | roses kerchief | leather thimble | recycle bin |
| 2 | 6 jars persimmon ketchup | teal popover dress | yard waste bin |
| 3 | 6 jars pickled beets | jelly cloth | - |
| 4 | 5 jars pear chunks | - | - |
| 5 | 8 jars quince | - | - |
| 6 | - | x | - |
| 7 | - | x | x |
| 8 | - | x | x |
| 9 | x | x | x |
| 10 | x | x | x |
| 11 | x | x | x |
| 12 | x | x | x |
| 13 | x | x | x |
| 14 | x | x | x |
| 15 | x | x | x |
today's gratitude - Little linen rice bags. I remembered them, better late than never, and popped them into the microwave before bedtime, remembering to also put a pyrex glass of water in at the same time (something about having enough moisture inside the appliance when using it?). It is lovely to have a nice warm nest to tuck my cold feet into, and it does make relaxing downward into sleep a lot easier, and their heat lasts for hours.
* how to bone a turkey thigh
