Days Eight and Nine--The Business of Being Busy

I had every intention of blogging about each day individually, but honestly, the past two days have seemed the same to me. The only distinguishing characteristics have been what I've worn and what I've eaten.

I decided that, while Steve is tutoring, and even some days when he isn't, I need to go to my classroom and get organized for next year. I haven't been teaching long enough that I have my lessons ready for next year. I'm still doing major overhaul from one year to the next. I'm also the SCA sponsor for the second year, so it's time for a giant do-over where that's concerned. So my schedule for the past two days has been as follows: heave myself out of bed as if trying to loose myself from the clutches of death, have breakfast, shower, drive to my parents' for pet duty #1, drive to Steve's parents' for pet duty #2, drive to school, work until about 3:00, drive home, work out, drink protein while trying to make the sweating stop, drive to my parents' for pet duty #3, come home, make and eat dinner, piddle with Steve for maybe an hour before he goes to bed, then make lunch for the next day and blog. If I'm lucky, I have the energy to watch a couple of episodes of Weeds before slipping into a coma and starting again tomorrow. I'm tired.

Thankfully, food has been a welcome relief to me during this cyclone of activity. Breakfast... well, you know. Mouth watering. Moving on. Yesterday's lunch consisted of curried chicken salad with grapes and almonds (no mayo--just Greek yogurt) over a salad of that beautiful purple lettuce, cucumber, and bean sprouts. I'm trying to use them before they go bad, so I put them in everything. They add this fantastic crunch to salad that I can't get enough of. It was all topped with a light citrus vinaigrette. As I ate, I hoped that no one would get nosey and pop into my classroom because I'm pretty sure I had curry on my face.

Dinner was inspired by a dish that Helen first introduced to me, pho, pronounced "fuh". Hip Vietnamese restaurants like to call themselves things like, "What the Pho?" A local restaurant sells t-shirts with "It's Pho King Good" printed on the back. Believe everything you hear. Pho is this amazing, steamy, aromatic bowl of noodles and chicken (if you order pho ga) and the best broth I've ever had in my life. You pile on Thai basil, jalapenos, bean sprouts, and sriracha at the table and dive in head-first. My version was more Japanese, but the spirit was still there. Last week I poached some chicken for lunch in chicken broth, ginger, and garlic. I saved the cooking liquid for noodle bowls and added udon noodles, chicken, shrimp, sugar snap peas, mushrooms, and bean sprouts. I love how noodle bowls are built: noodles go in the bowl first without the liquid, followed by the protein, and finished with the veggies. Finally you pour the broth over everything and toss on the garnishes. I don't know what it is about this process that's so appealing. I told Helen once (or fifty times) that I was going to become Asian. Maybe I see the creation of an authentic noodle bowl as a good first step.

So yesterday's meals were two more notches in my belt. Time to move on to today. And that's really how it feels. As soon as dinner is cleaned up, it's time to start making tomorrow's lunch. It's a never-ending cycle of food, which, for me, is kind of like heaven on earth.

Today we dined on Asian pork and cabbage slaw. This particular slaw is dressed with soy sauce, sesame oil, honey, and rice vinegar. It's incredibly light and refreshing with little bites of pork mixed in. I toasted some sesame seeds to throw on top along with sliced scallions. For the second day in a row, I hoped that no one would catch me eating lunch. I almost feel a little guilty, knowing that ninety percent of the teachers and office staff working summer school are either eating fast food, a dry sandwich, or nothing for lunch. I've been there, and it sucks.

Dinner tonight was the piece de resistance. It's always the simplest meals that I enjoy the most. We started with a salad of artisan lettuce, homemade balsamic vinaigrette, and grated parmesan. This is my very favorite salad on earth. No muss, no fuss. Just perfectly salty and sweet and crunchy. Second course, wild salmon filets with a balsamic-citrus glaze perched atop a bed of lemon rice pilaf. I haven't eaten rice in a really long time, and this was phenomenal. It was made with chicken broth, thyme, white wine, vidalia onion, and lemon zest. I'm a carb junky, which partially explains why I demand that phase one of P90X not be an exercise in torture. When I only get one serving of bread or rice or potatoes a day (and I split that serving between two meals), every bite has to count.

During meals, I've had some time to reflect on how I've chosen to spend my days this summer. I fluctuate between two predominate emotions: the first, that I should stop all working and wile away the days doing frivolous things; the second, that all time spent planning now will pay big dividends later. It's a very grasshopper and ant approach to the summer. Knowing myself, I believe that the ant has it right. Though I'm incredibly busy, I get to call the shots. As Julia Roberts, in the character of Vivian Ward, once said, "I say who, I say when, I say how much." And I know that my life will be much easier in the fall if I prepare myself now.

So, with a resigned shrug, I commit myself to several more days of the same. But first I lit some candles and turned on the lights in the china cabinet and in the curio cabinet where I display the dishes that Helen brought me from the Nam. Just because I don't have a lot of time doesn't mean I can't be busy in good atmosphere.