moldy guacamole

I knew it was there; I just kept ingoring it, figuring, you know, manana.
I did the daring deed today — opened up the container, scooped it all out with a paper towel, tossed it in the trash. Some things only get worse manana.
And then there are some things that just sit there, static and staionary, until you finally tackle them. Like the boxes of odds and ends I upturned looking for extension cords, heating pads, velcro, hooks — all in an effort to facilitate my mom’s life at this point. It will be a while before they get tackled, I’m afraid.
And then there’s the rosemary and wine marinated boneless leg of lamb that I was suppoed to cook for Christmas Day. Oy! No manana. Do it now or freeze it, and it just won’t be as tender after it’s defrosted. So, I put the roast on a spit in the rotisserie/convection/double burner table-top oven I bought when I moved. (Huh! NOW it’s on sale; I paid a third again more when I bought it. )
Oy! So lambdelcious. Crispy outside, succulent inside, redolent of rosemary. I sit down by myself (my mother is barely eating anything and my brother is a vegetarian) and stuff myself with lamb and sweet potatoes and salad. Went through all that trouble just for myself. And it was worth it.
How can I stuff my face while my mom is lying in the next room, barely able to get up and eat a little soup every once in a while, you might wonder. (I made a big pot of beef oxtail soup with all kinds of veggies, including potato skins for the potassium and [my secret to great beef soup] a can of V-8 juice instead of tomatoes. Then I strain it all out and wind up with a most nutritious broth.) Food is love.
While I’m engrossed in food today, my cat has not eaten at all. Instead, she finds places to hide in my mother’s room. When I carry her back to my space and put her in front of food, she runs back to my mom’s. Is she sick too, or is she super empathetic? My first cat, an independent and non-affectionate male, would come and snuggle up next to me and purr whenever I wasn’t feeling well. Somehow they know.
Lamb on a spit and moldy guacamole. A little delight and a lot of entropy. Ah, life.

2 thoughts on “moldy guacamole

  1. Cats do know … I watched this both with my father and my father-in-law. Then also, when our last cat, which spoilt by the male members of the household, wounded herself pretty badly, she came to me, the one female in the house and the one human who insisted on taking her to the emergency pet care, which saved her life.

  2. First — it’s GREAT to go to all that trouble “just for yourself”
    And just cuz nan can’t eat doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. In fact, you need to — to take care of yourself.
    And cat’s ALWAYS know. And you’ve said she and nan have formed a bond, so it makes even more sense.
    However, even tho that kitty could stand to slim down 🙂 I wouldn’t let it go too long. A cat that goes off it’s food can get serious complications (Kazik did) with liver function and stuff, which then further puts them off food. Locate a vet now and if it goes on more than a nother couple of days, get her in.

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