Well hello there dear reader(s), good morning, happy Good Friday and all that, I report to you on Day 10 of Covid where I am feeling relatively good. I had another marathon sleeping session, so much sleep that I do feel a tad groggy. But I hope to shake that off by taking Lily on a walk, I definitely need to get moving, it’s been awhile since I’ve been out walking around. The sun is peeking out today, which is nice. I have to make the Corn Casserole this afternoon for tomorrow’s family Easter gathering at mom’s place. It’s an easy NYT recipe that I’ve made before, this time however I know to leave out the scallions.
Michael is treating me to some kind of food delivered for dinner. I definitely need a break from cooking. I do have the fridge stocked with a lot of meat but I just have no desire to prepare anything. I have to say I’ve done one helluva job cooking all throughout this Covid sickness in our home. I only got one night off last week, when we had pizza, the rest of the time I’ve been laboring away to put food on the table. So I’m proud of myself, me always looking for some purpose in my life, at least I can hang my hat on my cooking.
As we near Easter this Sunday, I was remembering this morning back to that time years back when I was nuts and went to that priest’s home next to St. Mary’s church and rang the doorbell, wanting to talk to someone, probably about some vision I was having. A man answered the door, I don’t think he was the priest, and he was very, very rude to me, sent me away in embarrassment that I had wanted an audience with someone who wouldn’t be caught dead with the likes of me. I haven’t been back to St. Mary’s since, I guess I learned a hard lesson that some members of the clergy are not welcoming to certain downtrodden individuals. Oh manic psychosis, I shudder when I think about it and cross my fingers that my medication will keep it at bay.
No, I won’t be at church this Sunday, but the reason is more that I am recovering from Covid rather than I am fearful of a reoccurrence of psychosis or embarrassment that I once went to churches off my rocker. But I do have a rather, err, strange feeling about me and houses of worship, I guess it’s just from my experience with them, going back to my younger years at Broad Street Presbyterian Church, a place I wish I could call home today but something is blocking that. Oh well. I will keep looking for a church for me, maybe First Congregational Church is the place.
My head is still feeling a touch muddled and I can’t write as freely as I like. Oh well, just need to be patient and wait for this Covid to completely move through me. I’ve gotten myself bathed and dressed for the day, had cottage cheese for lunch (dieting) and now getting ready to hit the kitchen. My hair is down and my curly locks are showing. Michael complimented me on it. Perhaps I shouldn’t be sporting a ponytail all the time? It’s just easier to wear my hair that way, get it out of my face when I am cooking. I do tend to neglect my appearance, it’s a middle age thing. Maybe that’s something I can work on? Perhaps it’s time to call Nicole for a hair appointment.
OK, off I go. Happy Good Friday all. See you tomorrow.
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