My personal chef

I went to see my dad in the hospital last weekend (my dad's still in the hospital--he had surgery on Thursday--but he's doing really well and will probably be home mid-week), and I went down to the hospital cafeteria with my mother and her friend and had lunch. Somehow, we got to talking about cooking in general, and I was talking about how Bob cooks me dinner almost every night, and cooks enough so that I have something to take for my lunch the next day.

Most of the time he makes me fish, but sometimes he makes me an omelette, or stir-fry, or something like that. I feel kind of guilty about it sometimes, but since I work until 6:00, I don't get home until about 7:00, and it's highly unlikely -- okay, impossible -- that I would actually cook something for myself when I got home. It's wonderful to come home and have something already made for me, and it's wonderful not to have to give a lot of thought to what I'm going to have for lunch the following day.

I said to my mom's friend, "It's almost like having my own personal chef!" And it is.

Friday night he made me grilled salmon, steamed fresh brocolli, and hollandaise sauce. Then on Saturday morning he had gotten up early to go hunting, and he stopped at the grocery store on the way home and bought eggs, then made me an omelette when he got home.

I did actually cook on Saturday. I made chili. It was good, although a little weird since used some almost completely non-fat turkey instead of ground beef. But it was good, and we ate all of it except for a bowlful that I brought to lunch with me today.

I don't know what I'm getting for dinner tonight . . .

I hardly knit anything at all this summer, except for maybe one sock or something like that. But as soon as the weather started getting cool again, my thoughts have turned to wool. When I was getting ready to leave for the hospital on Sunday, I grabbed a skein of sock yarn and a set of needles and stuck them in my purse just in case I ended up waiting somewhere and needed something to keep my hands busy.

As it turned out, I was glad I had it. My mother was waiting for me by the elevator; the nurses were busy doing something in my dad's room and we ended up waiting for about a half hour or forty-five minutes in the waiting room, and I started a pair of fingerless gloves and got about half of one finished while we waited. I've made a few now, and can make them without the pattern.

I've been thinking I wanted a poncho. I know it's dumb, and it's just a silly fashion thing, but I decided I wanted one. I've been looking for just the right pattern, and on Saturday I went to the yarn store and looked at yarn. I almost bought some wool, but they didn't have enough of the color I wanted (a silver-gray), so I decided to do the smart thing and wait, at least until I knew exactly what pattern I was going to use.

Then last night I remembered a shawl that I had knit last year, but had never finished. I went down in the basement and got it, and ripped it all out and wound the wool into balls, and started a poncho with that, using a pattern that I already had. I've been knitting madly on it, and I've now got a pain in my shoulder, so I guess I'd better stop. But it's certainly interesting how the cooler weather makes me want to get out the needles and make something warm and fuzzy.