The repair crew

Nice easy walks and gentle swims … you’d think I was fully recovered from overdoing it a bit in January. However, just when I thought all my body parts were working in harmony, out of the clear blue of the western sky comes excruciating knee pain that brought all my good efforts to a halt.

After a few days of rest, heat, ice, Tylenol and Advil, it seems to be fine. I did a short test walk yesterday and a slightly longer test walk today, and so far, so good. But still, I’ve been exercising regularly for 50 years, and it shocks me how quickly things can go wrong.

When I complained to my husband about the pain, he said, “Ah, yes. The repair crew.”

Sometimes the guy is genius. When something hurts, and I start to feel sorry for myself, I think, calm down. It’s just the repair crew, and I am in need of repairs. They’re trying to fix this mess. Certainly, there are many ways to cope with pain, and I suspect most of us will dabble in those dark arts more and more as we age.

Growing older is not easy, but let’s consider ourselves lucky if we can get through it in reasonably good cheer and enjoy the time that is given to us.

Interestingly, I just finished a fantastic book that explores the possibilities of navigating adversity with dignity, grace and humor … so maybe some of it rubbed off on me. Historical fiction at its finest, “A Gentleman in Moscow” by Amor Towles tells the story of Count Alexander Rostov, a Russian aristocrat living under house arrest in a luxury hotel for 30 years.

One of my favorite passages (and there are many) is when a friend talks to him about wanting to leave Russia and experience the conveniences of modern life. Count Rostov replies:

I’ll tell you what is convenient. To sleep until noon and have someone bring you your breakfast on a tray. To cancel an appointment at the very last minute. To keep a carriage waiting at the door of one party, so that on a moment’s notice it can whisk you away to another. To sidestep marriage in your youth and put off having children altogether. These are the greatest of conveniences, Anushka — and at one time, I had them all. But in the end, it has been the inconveniences that have mattered to me most.

I loved this book. It’s literary without being too fancy-pants. Just a fantastic story in a spectacular setting with great characters and thoughts and ideas that might haunt (or inspire) you for decades. If you should be so fortunate.

In other news, rain, rain and more rain. And so one’s thoughts turn to food. Dale roasted a chicken earlier in the week. I’m making stock out of the carcass, and he’s making chicken tortilla soup with the leftover meat. His soup is tomato-based, and then we top it with fried tortilla strips, crumbled queso fresco, chunks of avocado, chopped cilantro and a squirt of fresh lime.

Tomorrow I’m making venison meatloaf, sour cream and chive mashed potatoes and asparagus. I haven’t decided if I’ll roast or steam the asparagus.

I also took my sourdough starter out of the fridge to get him ready for bread. I just need to feed him for a couple of days, and then he’s good to go. I started him at the beginning of the pandemic and named him Gollum because I wasn’t sure this would work out, and I was reminded of Gandalf’s line from the movie, Lord of the Rings.

My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play, for good or ill, before this is over.

Luckily, Gollum has performed admirably. I was thinking of some sort of stew to go with the bread. Although, meatloaf sandwiches don’t make me mad.