I took these two pictures because since I had finished my series in “Travels Through France” I realized that I didn’t have much to share with my friends now that I was back to my day-to-day existence here in Blandford. In retrospect, I should have taken the two roasted chickens on my cell phone because they did look very pretty, all golden crispy brown, but I wasn’t thinking of posting or blogging at the moment.
I am getting ahead of myself, the salad is a roasted chicken salad with diced celery, salt, pepper, Dijon mustard and mayonnaise. The drill with chicken in this house is, first comes the roasting and once everyone has had their fill of dark meat and light, I take the paring knife to the birds,not my favorite thing to do because it is messy and a little fatty, and I cut up all the meat in small pieces, dice up the celery with the heart and leaves and mix everything together with mustard, mayonnaise, salt and pepper. It is a very nice chicken salad, I don’t normally eat chicken and I like it.
The other picture is of one of my favorite vegetable dishes, a zucchini saute. Basically it’s a lot of onion and garlic diced and sautéed until translucent, I then add the zucchini diced along with chopped basil and parsley. Once everything is tender, I add a little bit of tomato sauce and Parmesan cheese. It doesn’t look like much, I’m sure, but it is mighty good. I have that for dinner and I know that I did something good for my body.
I am still not feeling well and my addled brain is trying to put words together in some sort of entertaining form. I don’t know if I have been successful but I figure I might as well try to write rather than let myself fall out of practice. Falling out of practice can come very easily, I am still trying to get back into my novel. I haven’t touched it since right before I left for France on July 17th. I have to re-establish my writing timetable. Hopefully, next week when I feel stronger I can get back to my two characters Madeleine and Jack, get them out of France and into New York City 1926.
That’s all I have for today, two pictures, some good food and a confession of a lapse in writing discipline. Must not beat myself up too badly over my novel, I might develop writers block if I stress too much. I really don’t want that to happen.