One of the pleasures of living in Southern California are the November days. Today was a beautiful day. The kind of day that can lift a mood, just the kind of day I needed. Dan and I walked for about forty-five minutes this morning, and it was…painful. OK, I don’t mean to ruin the lovely picture I just painted, but I’m getting old. If you are older you will understand, if you are younger, beware! Every single injury I ever incurred in my life is coming back to haunt me. If you know me then you know that there are quite a few injuries to feel. I won’t bore you to death with the list, but it does bring to mind an “only Me” story. Ten and a half years ago we were preparing our home in Illinois to sell in order to move here. I was painting in the powder room, Dan repairing something in the living room. He was hammering, I don’t recall what, but the vibration was bad enough to knock the mirror off the bathroom wall. It landed on my ankle, my Achilles Tendon to be exact. There are no words to describe the pain. I have given birth to two children, naturally, no drugs, nothing, this pain was right up there with pushing a human being out. It instantly swelled and turned black. Fortunately my tendon didn’t snap. About a year ago my doc looked at it and said I have atrophy of my tendon. Atrophy. A lovely word, right up there with decrepit. Words that begin to appear as you age, like my all time most hated “ma’am. The ankle pain comes and goes when it chooses, and today it chose to visit. I try not to let these things get to me. I own a hospital supply closet (it also happens to be where we keep our clothes), I have every imaginable wrap, brace, elastic bandage, and splint. I also own three canes and three sets of crutches. One was mine, the other two were left on my doorstep by not so funny neighbors when they moved. I grab the corresponding brace or bandage, for the corresponding ailing body part and off I go. I refuse to give in. For the last few days we have seen an elderly woman pushing a walker, the kind with a seat attached, near our house. The kind I keep pointing out to Dan that I will need some day. She was even out there in the rain. I want to be her. I want to be that old and still walking and giving it my all.
A little creativity in the kitchen tonight as well. A Devil’s Food cupcake with a Dulce de Leche butter-cream, drizzled with dark chocolate ganache, and topped with a caramel and chocolate dipped pretzel. Just one of the many treats we hope to have in our cafe.