A Post About Not Much At All
by Bella Rum
That’s a small plate. The portion sizes are smaller than they appear. Honest.
I have an appointment with my poke-in-the-eye doctor this morning. It’s time for another injection.
I haven’t been out of the house for a couple of days. It’s been peaceful and quiet. H made a foray on the grocery store for an eggplant, bell peppers and a red onion once (I found a promising recipe for orzo and roasted vegetables). Other than that, human contact with the outside world has been by telephone. I view this as a good thing. No contact equals no chance of catching a nasty bug, and no opportunity to spend money. After the holidays, avoiding stores is not a problem for me. I don’t love shopping. I like to know what I’m looking for and where I’m going before I leave the house.
It’s been cold and we got a bit of snow a couple of days ago. I predicted that we would get just enough to be pretty but not a bother. I was wrong (first time ever). We did only get an inch, but we also got a lovely coating of ice. It was treacherous – another reason to stay home and cozy up.
H has been cooking up a storm. You know how it is when someone learns something new, they can’t get enough of it. Let me tell you, I’m loving this. He made a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies for me and froze them. I eat one for dessert almost every night. ONE! Yes, I’ve eaten fairly clean since my declaration last week… except for the chocolate chip cookie. Man cannot live by bread alone. I guess bread lovers could disagree about that. I’ve only lost a few pounds but I’ll take it. This will be a very long project. The damage I’ve done is impressive.
When I came online this morning, I saw that another woman came forward in the Bill Cosby fiasco. What’s the count now? In the thirties? This stuff is older than time itself, but this time it happens to be someone that many loved and respected and who was gifted enough to make us smile even when we were blue. A guy like that gets the benefit of the doubt more so than an ordinary Joe.
I see them so often. They’re in my living room every day. It takes diligence to remind myself that I do not “know” public people. We only know their personas, which may closely resemble the real person or not. I’m cynical now and less shocked when I hear something shocking about someone I once admired. They made me this way. It’s good to to remember that these pedestaled icons came from our ranks. They are us, and they are likely to be as flawed as the population throughout our communities, but wouldn’t it be nice if it didn’t happen so often? Thank God Captain Kangaroo got out unscathed. I would have been crushed.