There's no doubt that I'm pretty spoiled. I hardly ever cook, and just when I started to get interested in it, I married to an alpha cook. So one of the most difficult things in dealing with Dear's absence is actually having to do that thing with the stove/oven. The first week of being Dear-less, I was mostly living like a college student. I stretched leftovers very thin, eating the same thing or some permutation of it, every other day so that I wouldn't tire of any one thing. Not one meal was close to being balanced and I felt hungry soon after eating. The fanciest meal I cooked was quesadillas, and noodle soup has been a staple. Our fridge hasn't been this empty since we moved in. But through all the desperate times, I told myself that I would eat out just one weeknight each week. So far I have stayed true to that.
This week I'm trying to live like a recent college graduate. So far I've had a scrumptious steak with roasted squash and an OK tilapia papillote. Today I walked to Ctown to buy some fruits and vegetables on my lunch break (thank goodness for Ctown and its proximity b/c the stores within walking distance of where I live suck). I haven't yet worked out what to do with the broccoli and green beans that I bought, but some meals that I'm thinking of preparing:
- oven-baked ribs
- pasta
- grilled cheese sandwich with bacon(!) and apple
- Hainanese chicken (or at least a poached chicken)
- porkchops
- roasted tomatoes with broccoli rabe
If you have any recipe suggestions, please pass it along!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
Don't cry for me Argentina
I've been too busy to post about the weekend and here we are at the next weekend already. Well, it was a tear-filled weekend, first with the passing of Dear's uncle and then Dear's departure. Dear left somewhat early on Sunday morning and began his long drive to GA. Because of this, he couldn't attend his uncle's burial (even though he really wanted to) and I went in his stead. The uncle lived a very full (and long) life and he was a good man. Because he was a WWII vet and was to be buried at the VA cemetery, his burial was on Monday (friggin' civil servants don't work on weekends). I have never been to a veteran's funeral and it was a sobering and beautiful experience. The ceremony was very moving and I felt very honored to have known him in the short time that I did and to be able to pay final respects.
My in-laws and I started out very early in the morning since it was a very long drive (almost to the end of Long Island). The ride felt much longer for me since I had to sit next to a bothersome old lady from church who couldn't keep her mouth shut for one second. Thankfully I fell asleep halfway there and when I woke up, we had arrived. It took a while for all the cars to get there, but eventually we were ready and everyone drove to a stone shelter hidden behind trees and down a short, scenic walkway. It was a very serene place and everyone (except the bothersome woman from church who was yammering away on her cellphone) instantly fell silent as soon as we walked into the area.
Inside the shelter, the casket was flanked on either side by two female army officers in their dress uniform. A row of folding chairs with covers made of Astroturf faced the casket and the immediate family was directed to take these seats. Once everyone filed into the shelter (and the woman finally had the sense to end her conversation), taps began to play (I assume this was a recording since I didn't see anyone with brass instruments around). The two officers brought their hands up to their brow in a salute and a few people brought their hands to their chest in a pledge. At some point the two officers turned to face the casket and with their white gloves, grasped the flag covering the casket. They lifted the flag up in unison and brought it together length-wise almost end to end. They did this one more time before walking away from the casket and towards the crowd. The officers continued to hold the flag at chest-height, while the one on the right began to fold the flag. She took one corner and folded it diagonally to form a triangle at one end, then folded it horizontally, then diagonally the other way until there was less than 2 feet separating her from the other officer. For each fold, she ran her hand against the fabric to pull it tight and form a crease before moving on. The other officer, holding the end with the stars then tucked her end into the pocket that was formed by the other officer's folding. Each movement was precise and deliberate, motions exaggerated to emphasize each fold. Their bright white gloves against the vivid red and blue was captivating to watch. Still, at times I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if one of them lost their grip and the flag fluttered to the ground. But I couldn't dwell on this thought as the officer on the right then handed the flag to the other officer and that officer marched toward the green chairs. She stopped in front of the widow, bent down, and gave a speech that began something like, "Ma'am, as a show of appreciation to your husband for his service to our country, please accept this symbol...." I lost it about here and was reminded of how so many have bravely fought for our country. After the officer finished, she handed the flag over and Dear's aunt held the flag against her body (its final folded size is pretty big, covering almost her entire torso). The two officers then marched away, out of the shelter, and into the trees. After a hymn, Bible reading, and two prayers, everyone took their turn laying a flower on the casket. When the ceremony was over, everyone went back to the cars to drive to the actual burial site. There was some commotion as someone noticed that there was a lychee tree growing amongst all the greenery.
We waited a while by the administration office and people started to exclaim that since it was around noon, everyone was on their lunch break and we'd have to wait even longer. Some took this as a bathroom opportunity but just as I started to stretch out my legs, everything was ready and there was a scramble to get back to the cars. We drove by many fields and all the old folk had to comment on how some of the fields don't have standing headstones and just have the plaque in the ground. Dear's aunt and cousins made sure to choose an area with standing headstones. Unlike other cemeteries, where there are all shapes and sizes of headstones, everyone at the VA cemetery has the same exact one -- a slab of white marble with a curve at the top and simple etching of the name, dates, and religious symbol on the front. There is also a number etched into the back of each one, the meaning of which I still don't understand. The uniformity is nice and to see the rows and rows of white stones lined up is breathtaking. The old folk also liked this a lot and many made comments and/or caressed the stones as if to test them out. The spot chosen by Dear's aunt is especially nice, next to a big tree with a bench and also by a spigot. I think there is some feng shui belief associated with choosing certain burial spots, which I find interesting, since as Christians, do you really care where your physical body is rotting away at on Earth? When everything was finally done and we were back in Queens, it was already 3pm. Dear had already arrived in GA and was settling in to his room and such.
It has been less than a week without Dear, but I've already had many inquiries into how I'm handling daily chores like cooking and cleaning and I've even had offers for me to stay over. I don't know, do people just think I'm that incapable? More on how I'm holding up in a later post. It's been a crazy long day/week.
My in-laws and I started out very early in the morning since it was a very long drive (almost to the end of Long Island). The ride felt much longer for me since I had to sit next to a bothersome old lady from church who couldn't keep her mouth shut for one second. Thankfully I fell asleep halfway there and when I woke up, we had arrived. It took a while for all the cars to get there, but eventually we were ready and everyone drove to a stone shelter hidden behind trees and down a short, scenic walkway. It was a very serene place and everyone (except the bothersome woman from church who was yammering away on her cellphone) instantly fell silent as soon as we walked into the area.
Inside the shelter, the casket was flanked on either side by two female army officers in their dress uniform. A row of folding chairs with covers made of Astroturf faced the casket and the immediate family was directed to take these seats. Once everyone filed into the shelter (and the woman finally had the sense to end her conversation), taps began to play (I assume this was a recording since I didn't see anyone with brass instruments around). The two officers brought their hands up to their brow in a salute and a few people brought their hands to their chest in a pledge. At some point the two officers turned to face the casket and with their white gloves, grasped the flag covering the casket. They lifted the flag up in unison and brought it together length-wise almost end to end. They did this one more time before walking away from the casket and towards the crowd. The officers continued to hold the flag at chest-height, while the one on the right began to fold the flag. She took one corner and folded it diagonally to form a triangle at one end, then folded it horizontally, then diagonally the other way until there was less than 2 feet separating her from the other officer. For each fold, she ran her hand against the fabric to pull it tight and form a crease before moving on. The other officer, holding the end with the stars then tucked her end into the pocket that was formed by the other officer's folding. Each movement was precise and deliberate, motions exaggerated to emphasize each fold. Their bright white gloves against the vivid red and blue was captivating to watch. Still, at times I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if one of them lost their grip and the flag fluttered to the ground. But I couldn't dwell on this thought as the officer on the right then handed the flag to the other officer and that officer marched toward the green chairs. She stopped in front of the widow, bent down, and gave a speech that began something like, "Ma'am, as a show of appreciation to your husband for his service to our country, please accept this symbol...." I lost it about here and was reminded of how so many have bravely fought for our country. After the officer finished, she handed the flag over and Dear's aunt held the flag against her body (its final folded size is pretty big, covering almost her entire torso). The two officers then marched away, out of the shelter, and into the trees. After a hymn, Bible reading, and two prayers, everyone took their turn laying a flower on the casket. When the ceremony was over, everyone went back to the cars to drive to the actual burial site. There was some commotion as someone noticed that there was a lychee tree growing amongst all the greenery.
We waited a while by the administration office and people started to exclaim that since it was around noon, everyone was on their lunch break and we'd have to wait even longer. Some took this as a bathroom opportunity but just as I started to stretch out my legs, everything was ready and there was a scramble to get back to the cars. We drove by many fields and all the old folk had to comment on how some of the fields don't have standing headstones and just have the plaque in the ground. Dear's aunt and cousins made sure to choose an area with standing headstones. Unlike other cemeteries, where there are all shapes and sizes of headstones, everyone at the VA cemetery has the same exact one -- a slab of white marble with a curve at the top and simple etching of the name, dates, and religious symbol on the front. There is also a number etched into the back of each one, the meaning of which I still don't understand. The uniformity is nice and to see the rows and rows of white stones lined up is breathtaking. The old folk also liked this a lot and many made comments and/or caressed the stones as if to test them out. The spot chosen by Dear's aunt is especially nice, next to a big tree with a bench and also by a spigot. I think there is some feng shui belief associated with choosing certain burial spots, which I find interesting, since as Christians, do you really care where your physical body is rotting away at on Earth? When everything was finally done and we were back in Queens, it was already 3pm. Dear had already arrived in GA and was settling in to his room and such.
It has been less than a week without Dear, but I've already had many inquiries into how I'm handling daily chores like cooking and cleaning and I've even had offers for me to stay over. I don't know, do people just think I'm that incapable? More on how I'm holding up in a later post. It's been a crazy long day/week.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Bend it like R______n
My biggest hurdle right now is bending my leg beyond 90 degrees. I have just enough strength to be able to walk without a brace and crutch most of the time (though I feel wobbly sometimes). Every day I do killer bending exercises which make my knee and thigh feel like I have early arthritis coupled with a burning sensation. Since I can't reach the minimum 120 degrees with ease at week 5, the p/t had to force it the other day. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, since I had prepped myself throughout the week, unlike the previous week where I felt tears squeezing out of my eyes just as he squeezed my leg. I had to flail my upper body just to distract myself and I remember slapping the table in defeat like those judo/taekwondo wusses do. :D This time wasn't as bad but was still bad enough that the receptionist said my face clearly showed my pain. But I think it was just the little push that I needed since it is difficult to force pain on myself and Dear can't bring himself to do it either.
In other suffering news, I am finding it more and more difficult trying to put a wardrobe together. I have to wear sneakers and I covet all the shoes, flip flops, boots and sandals that I see on other ppl's feet as I mostly look at the floor to make sure I don't step on uneven ground. It is good to finally be able to wear pants though, now that I don't have to wear the ridiculously large leg brace (I was afraid I'd have to go buy more skirts). But somedays I just give up on being publicly presentable (I really need to go shopping and to get a haircut!) and carry my crutch around as an accessory/excuse.
In other suffering news, I am finding it more and more difficult trying to put a wardrobe together. I have to wear sneakers and I covet all the shoes, flip flops, boots and sandals that I see on other ppl's feet as I mostly look at the floor to make sure I don't step on uneven ground. It is good to finally be able to wear pants though, now that I don't have to wear the ridiculously large leg brace (I was afraid I'd have to go buy more skirts). But somedays I just give up on being publicly presentable (I really need to go shopping and to get a haircut!) and carry my crutch around as an accessory/excuse.
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