I didn't get any further on The Salt Eaters. I fell asleep.
I was too tired (and cranky) last night to blog about it when I updated yesterday's post, but it took a bit of time and effort to turn the tide on my day yesterday, and by the time it was all over, I was about ready to give up.
After I blogged at 4:00, I decided to make a nice fire in the fireplace and read, read, read.
As I was getting wood off the stack in the yard, a piece fell and landed on my foot. It landed vertically, not horizontally, so it really hurt. (For some reason, I have become convinced that, if it had landed horizontally, it would have hurt far less, but really, I have no way of knowing.)
It's a good thing we're well past the season for open-toed sandals here in the northeast, because I now have a major bruise on my right foot, one that initially threatened to engulf the last two toes of said foot.
I cussed a blue streak.
I often think my neighbors must sit by their windows and watch me talking to myself and cursing as I go about my odd-ball business, occasionally injuring myself in the process. I'm quite certain they laugh at the sight of me with my two cat carriers, doting on my kitties as I load them into the car for yet another road trip.
What can I say? We're a team. I only wish my other kitty hadn't died, so I could have all of them.
Anyway, the wood. As I limped back into the house (doing my best to ensure that I didn't drop any other pieces of wood on that foot--or on my other foot, for that matter), one thought came to mind.
This is where I find the vegan lifestyle simply unfathomable. In my experience, there are times when melted cheese is not simply a dietary choice, but an existential necessity. I cannot imagine how one could do without it, and I think anyone who tries to fabricate a vegan cheese-substitute should be brought up on charges.
So I had grilled cheese. Believe it or not, the bread burned while I was making it, but I caught it in time.
I was not to be denied at this point. I simply ripped off the burned piece of bread (the cheese hadn't fully melted yet) and replaced it with a new, fresh slice that could be more appropriately toasted.
This made me nervous that, in fact, the tide had not been totally turned. If there's one thing I know for certain, it's that desperate times call for desperate measures. And so I made a batch of apple crisp.
Again, say what you like, but it is a fruit-based dessert (i.e., "healthy," in a very loose sense of the word), and the addition of butter and cinnamon and brown sugar to any fruit can never be wrong. If it is, then I don't want to be right.
So although my Saturday was not quite as nice as my Friday, I did enjoy the Read-A-Thon, in the end, and I'm going to hope for better things when the next one rolls around in April.
And so far, my Sunday has been just fine. I made cupcakes. I refer to them as "virtuous" cupcakes, because they're carrot-cake cupcakes. Some people would argue that the term "guilt-free" would be more appropriate, but in fact, it is not.
I refuse to link food with guilt. Instead, I opt for a more proactive, positive stance. These cupcakes are not simply lacking in the negative qualities associated with guilt.
On the contrary, I believe my carrot-cake cupcakes positively promote feelings of compassion and well-being, and thus encourage virtuous, right-minded action.
If I were to frost and then distribute them at the next meeting of the UN Security Council, they might very well lead to world peace. And I would do it, too, but I'm out of cream cheese, and it's not like I can just throw on a pair of sandals and go get some.
So although things didn't go as planned yesterday, ultimately, I triumphed. (This phrase can be my epitaph someday.)