Home Sweet Home

Coming out of my writing cave to make an appearance. It’s been a while, I know. I didn’t forget about you. I’ve been a little busy since I last posted. Okay, a LOT busy. Between moving and book revisions, I’ve scarcely had a moment to myself. Cooking? Forget about it. I’ve been living off fruit and salads. Sleep? Who can sleep when their mind is spinning like a turbocharged hamster wheel? Life? These past weeks I’ve had no life outside my writing cave and the thousand and one boxes I unpacked.

But my six-month house remodel is finally done. I moved into our new home on June 1st and Sandy joined me for a week, to return in August for 3 weeks. I teased him that he showed up after all the hard work and heavy-lifting was done. But in fact, he’s been doing his part as the CFO of this project, an important role because none of it would’ve happened without the necessary funds. Also, while he was visiting, he cut down all the empty boxes that filled our garage, for which he gets HUGE credit. All that’s left to do now (before I tackle the outdoor space) is hang some pictures and fill in with furnishings where needed. Not much of either is required. One of the advantages of small-home living.

Best of all, I have a lovely working kitchen. It’s my favorite room in the house, its breakfast nook my favorite spot to hang out in. (Sandy’s too). For the past decade-plus, we’ve lacked proper dining facilities. Ours consisted of the eat-in counter of our New York City condo. The other day when Sandy and I were eating lunch in our cozy breakfast nook, I told him, “I’m happy because now I get to look at your handsome face while we eat.”

Still getting to know my new range. Currently, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As a serious cook and baker, my relationship with my range/oven is super important, as you might imagine. Some ovens run hotter than others. Not all cooktops are created equal. Becoming acquainted with a new one can be like dating someone new after a long-term relationship. After carefully reading the manual and following the instructions for my new Smeg range, I concluded it was defective and called the repairman. Imagine my embarrassment when he showed me everything worked fine; I was just doing it wrong. For which I refuse to take blame. Being as Smeg is an Italian company, I’m guessing English isn’t the first language of whoever wrote the manual. Once I get the hang of it, all will be well. If not, there are other ranges. Looking forward to getting reacquainted with my baking supplies. That’s another thing that went by the wayside these past months: baking.

As for the writing, I finished my book revisions in record time. It entailed a full rewrite, which was a ton of work (all good!) and required me to get up and get cracking every morning at 4 a.m. This while I was in the middle of attending to the final details of our home remodel, moving, and unpacking. How did I do it? I don’t know that I did. I think it was the shoemaker’s elves, busy at work while I slept.

One thing I know: I’m capable of far more than I sometimes give myself credit for. Whenever I’m thrown into the rapids of the river that is life, as I was recently, I rediscover my ability to go with the flow and swim like hell. I’m not a kid anymore. My knees occasionally creak. My lower back sometimes aches. Nor do I have the energy I did in my youth. But, by golly, when it was time to get cracking, I got cracking (and not just my knees!) Proving once again we’re stronger than we know.