You know, I think that having Candy (yes, her name is Candy) come to clean my house has made me more productive in other areas. I had another full and busy day and got a lot done.
First off, I had another walk. I have walked almost nine miles this week which I feel all the better for. Well, except for the soreness and exhaustion. But...whatever.
I walked past Harvey's and for whatever reason, Dracula is now lying down with the golf clubs on top of him. Like I said- mysterious. I didn't have any conversations with anyone at all on my walk. I just listened to the book I'm currently reading with my ears which is One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I have no idea how many times I've read this book but it is such a good one. It makes me want to watch the movie again too. My god but the casting in that movie was so good. Poor Louise Fletcher who played Nurse Ratched did so damn well inhabiting her character that she had a hard time ever getting another acting job. Forever and forever she will be thought of as the Big Nurse. Not a nice character.
One thing I did was to start a pot of collard greens. Now these are store-bought collards because the ones in the garden are at least a month or so away from eating. But I thought, "Oh, what the hell?" and bought a bag and I'm cooking them with a tiny bit of bacon, onions, balsamic vinegar, vegetable Better Than Bouillon, soy sauce, liquid smoke, and salt and pepper. And they are bitter. Bitter greens. And not the good kind of bitter. Collards are not supposed to be bitter. Like they were picked late.
And then, AND THEN, MILK!
To add to the travesty, the instructions say to cook the greens by sautéing them in olive oil for 3-4 minutes. I guarantee you that they would be inedible even if you didn't add the milk.
Jesus Christ Almighty.
I think I may have discussed this recipe before. If so, forgive me. I can't remember shit these days but the milk and potatoes seem to ring a very distant, quiet bell.
But anyway, I am thinking that I need to send a letter to this Bo Herndon guy who supposedly grows these greens and let him know that every southerner who reads that recipe just laughs and laughs and laughs. Also, that he should probably be picking his greens a little bit earlier.
But I just can't get mad at these guys. They work so hard. I have been told by the main man of work that the house is essentially done and tomorrow they will finish the old kitchen's roof and hopefully, also the roof on the barn.
"Thank you," I told him. "You have done such a good job. It looks beautiful."
"No problem!" he said. "It's nothing."
These days we can text each other, send each other pictures and that is sweet. I'll send him pictures of what comes up in the garden and what the cats are up to, and he will send me pictures of where he is and what they are eating, and Cash, the dog, who hunts with them and whom he has known since he was a puppy.
And...I think I may be getting out one of the ducks while he is gone.