I was idly wondering what subject I would expound upon tonight. Today’s WordPress prompt was: “What is good about having a pet?” Well, I talk about the benefits of that ad nauseam, so I was going to have to look at Pinterest for inspiration again. But then… well, you’ll see.

Today was my first day “off” since Halloween. I’m not counting yesterday since I had laundry to catch up on, plus the added task of furniture cleaning and what have you. So I’ve been here, basking in a day of no real responsibilities, apart from feeding myself. And I already had my meals for the day worked out: I planned to fix chili since it was going to be so gloomy.

I used to love rainy days. Now I dread them like a trip to the dentist.

I had thawed my sirloin tips and hamburger meat and after I got breakfast eaten and washed up, I decided to get on with it. I browned the meat with seasonings, opened my cans of tomatoes and beans, diced my onion, dumped it all in the crockpot and gave it a stir. I started to put it on high so I could eat it sooner, but decided there was no rush, and moved the dial to low. The time was straight up 12:00.

The sun was in and out much of the afternoon. I had windows open all over the house, so I wasn’t surprised the chili wasn’t smelling very strongly. I’ve read, and sorted the vast majority of the world’s problems over the phone with John Alan, played with Chester, and messaged Emily. A typical Sunday. I ate some grapes and cheese and crackers around 2:30, because I didn’t figure the beef tips would be tender enough after that short of time. I sat there, right there, at the counter and ate. Right there, mere inches from my crockpot.

Today was a long day. Sundays always have been for me. I didn’t realize they were for others, as well. Stacy said her and her friend always called them “Blue Sundays” because people aren’t around to do stuff with; they’re spending the day with their families. Today was absolutely a Blue Sunday, between the weather and the solitude. And my overall lack of something productive to do.

Oh, I could have found something, but I wasn’t that desperate. Better to sit on the porch and watch chickens peck and try to get through this book. It’s kinda awful.

I shut the windows because the breeze picked up. I opened another bottle of wine. Not as in second one today, but second one of the weekend. It wasn’t as smooth as Friday’s, so it will become sangria soon. (Today’s Dictionary.com word of the day is vinaceous, btw. It means the color of red wine. That’s something we all now know). I lit all my fall candles. I felt very ladyIike, here with my witchy romance, amid my flickering candles, sipping my glass of Pinot.

At four o’clock I messaged Emily that it looked like seven. While it’s obviously pitch black at 7:00 now, you know what I mean. She agreed, and said she had just let the dogs out for last call, and then was shocked when she saw the time. 🤣

At 5:30, I could stand it no more. And if I ate this early, then I could bake chocolate chip cookies this evening. See how that worked out?
I went to dip me out a bowl.
And found that it wasn’t looking very…liquid-y.
I stuck the ladle in and stirred it around, bringing up an uncooked onion.
You have GOT to be kidding me. Crockpots last forever! I have two of my Grandmother’s that are still going strong. I felt the side. Yup, cold. Dial on low and…..
*expletive* not. Flippin’. Plugged. In.

I have been here all day. All. Day. Long. Evidently my mind merely tricked me into thinking I smelled chili. That would explain why it didn’t seem very strong. But I’m also aware of nose blindness, and thought I was suffering from that.
So now I wait. I figure it’ll be good to go by 8:30. No time for cookies, then. But I didn’t need cookies, anyway. And this will no doubt lead to heartburn: eating chili, of all things, this late, but that just means I can partake in a Snickers ice cream.

Silver linings, and what have you.

Update: I left a small piece of onion on top when I stirred and since the lid is clear glass, I will be able to gauge doneness by merely peering in at said onion. Even though this was blind luck, I felt like it was absolutely pure genius for me to recognize. I will be implementing this step in the future. As well as having some sort of method of making sure all systems are go. When I’ve used my flat iron, curling iron, or stove, I say out loud, “unplugged” or “off”. It helps, I promise you. This does not mean I haven’t left my front door standing wide open when I went to bed (another perk of having a dog, I don’t really worry about it), or leaving my keys hanging in the door and go off to work, or a number of other things. You might be surprised to know this is not my first misfortune of this nature with the crockpot. Oh no. I did it at least twice when I was working for Jackie. But I just can’t believe I didn’t notice it ALL THE LIVELONG DAY SINCE I WAS HERE.

I need a vacation.

While I wait, let me tell you a crazy story. My cousin, who hates talking on the phone as much as me, called and invited me to supper (oh, how I wish I had gone! But I declined because you know, I had chili on. And I didn’t want to put on real clothes and wrangle my hair). But she said, “well, lemme tell you my story anyway.”
So Chelsey was married before, to the father of her child. His best friend was married to a girl named Kristen. They were all really close and went out together regularly. Then their friends divorced, and the husband stopped coming around, but Chelsey remained friends with Kristen. Chelsey and her husband divorced, and they have both remarried. Kristen remarried a couple of years ago, as well. Chelsey has not seen or heard from Kristen’s ex in five or six years.
Today, Chelsey drove to Morristown to meet Kristen’s one-week-old baby. She stops by Sam’s on the way home, and ends up walking down the wrong aisle hunting her car when leaving. She sees this guy and she’s like, “OMG, that’s Kristen’s ex” and breaks into a sweat hoping he doesn’t notice her. Well of COURSE he did, and hollers at her and is chitchatting like no time has passed at all and introduces her to his kids.
She’s like, “how crazy is that? In all these years I’ve never ran into him, never talked to him, and then the same day I meet Kristen’s first child, I meet all of his, too, because I walked down the wrong aisle at Sam’s Club. And I was there getting new glasses!!!” ☠️☠️☠️

8:30 pm. Onion appears to be in nearly same condition as when I started. Risked taking the lid off to check doneness. Still needs about another hour. I am hangry and frustrated with myself, as there is nobody else I can blame, or I most certainly would.

This is a non-problem, to be clear. There are plenty of things in this house to eat. I just have my heart set on chili. (And Tums, at this point). Angela text me asking for prayers for her friend in California. Her daddy had started feeling low on energy and couldn’t eat but just a few bites at a time. Had some tests ran and they were getting the results tomorrow. Yesterday he started feeling really bad. So she took him to emergency room. They said he has a perforated colon and were taking him into surgery. About an hour later she text Angela back saying no surgery because he was most likely septic and eat up with cancer. They put him on morphine for the pain. He passed a few hours later. She didn’t even get to say goodbye. They couldn’t back off the morphine because the pain was too intense.

I don’t have problems.

Another friend, her friend’s daughter had twins about two months ago. She wasn’t wild on the idea of kids, but her husband of thirteen years talked her into it. And then twins, can you even imagine?? But three weeks in, he says it isn’t what he had bargained for, and was out. She discovered he’d been having an affair for eight years.
Think on that. Brand new twins. Eight years of an affair.

Life just kicks ya right in the teeth sometimes. You don’t have to look far to find someone with bigger problems than you. I hope she can see the blessing of having children to keep her busy, and a strong relationship with her mother to lean on for child rearing but also for emotional support.

My uncooked chili is no big deal. Not at all. And neither are my stale crackers.

10:00 and I have finally consumed two bowls. It was everything I dreamed it would be. All day long.

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy