Healing and Pacing

Pacing – not pacing in my study, like Dumbledore does (a lot, if the Weasley twins are to be believed) – but pacing myself. Healing. Letting myself go slowly. It’s harder than it sounds, folks.

Surgery #1 was healing well until I tripped, stumbled, bumped, stubbed the partially healed toes. That led to surgery #2.

Surgery #2 was a mixed bag. The bone healed well, but the soft tissue supporting the bone did not heal. Frankly, it was a mess. That mess led to surgery #3.

Surgery #3 was more intense. Healing involved no weight on the toes for at least two weeks, which meant using a scooter. That was tough, folks. We moved the scatter rugs out of the kitchen and bought a cup holder for the handlebars. That way, I could still get my coffee without putting pressure on Chuck, and I could get around the house without stumbling or knocking over my scooter.

Doctor Footloose warned me that many people who have similar surgeries to #3 wear the surgical boot for 8 to 12 weeks – minimum. She knows I detest the boot, but I will wear it as long as needed. Growl. Whine. Blankety blank boot.

Boot on one foot plus shoe on the other means I’m uneven, not level. Too much time at this kind of position leads to backaches. I’m healing from one of those now. PT style exercises on the floor (oh, yeah, getting down on the floor while wearing a big boot is a big bother); ice and heat alternating, and whatever pain medicine seems appropriate. This equation leads to feeling better – slowly. Very slowly.

That slow speed is why pacing is so important. Last night I made and canned chicken broth. Cooking the broth took two days in two large crockpots. One step at a time, I strained the broth, then took a break. Next, I set up the pressure cooker. The I took another break. Finally, I filled the jars, put the lids on, and  got all ten jars into the pressure cooker. That process didn’t require as many breaks because I could monitor the pressure cooker while sitting on the stepstool in the kitchen.

If this post seems dull, it’s because healing and pacing is low on excitement. I’ve loaded up on reading material for my Kindle and through Paperback swap, and explored involvement in the growing local historical society. I may be able to apply my grant writing skills to help them expand and open their new building. Meanwhile, the foot will heal. Slowly. Very slowly.

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Rhubarb galore!

Rhubarb thrives in a cool spring. A snowstorm on the first of May qualifies as cool, if not cold, right? My rhubarb sure thinks so. It’s sending out shoots right and left and center, and going to seed, too. I keep pulling the stalks that are flowering, and the next day I ask myself, “Self, did I miss that one yesterday?” Truth is, the plant wants to reproduce, and it keeps trying.

Yesterday I spent much of the day picking, cleaning, and chopping  rhubarb. I filled the sink with stalks, topped the compost heap with those huge leaves, and ran two batches through the food processor. Eventually, I dumped all the chopped rhubarb into a big bowl and covered it up for the night.

Today I tried three new recipes: Rhubarb Slush, Rhubarb-Ginger Jam, and Rhubarb Pie Filling. The slush was pretty easy. It’s in the freezer now, and I take it out and stir it about once an hour to prevent it turning into a block of rhubarb-flavored ice.

The Jam and the Pie Filling should have been easy. After all, I’ve made jams and jellies for years, and pie filling is just like a chunky applesauce, right? Right – sort of. I managed to print both recipes with metric measurements. Our stubborn United States insists on using the old fashioned “customary” measurement system, so I had to work to interpret the amounts on these two British style recipes. Fortunately, I have a scale that can measure in grams, and my glass measuring cups have metric measures on the side opposite the customary.

The end results were excellent. I’ll definitely make these again. In fact, I may need to do it again in a few weeks if the weather continues and the rhubarb continues to grow like a bush. The metric recipes, in fact, were for small batches. I will probably double them – or more, if the rhubarb plants keep thriving.

Readers, I wouldn’t mind hearing your rhubarb stories. The plant (a vegetable, not a fruit, I’m told) can be legendary.

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Ice Melt and Springtime. Ah, Water.

It happens every year. The icicles near the back door take over my life. The dripping makes the area by the door very wet, which freezes overnight, and the ice just piles up and gets slipperier and slipperier. I spend all kinds of time chopping the ice and spreading sand and salt on it to protect the family from sliding and falling. This corner doesn’t get any sun, either.

Sigh.

This year, I had a brainstorm. (Chuck would say I watched too much of a Homestead Rescue marathon, and he wouldn’t be wrong.) I thought to myself, what if I captured this water instead of letting it freeze in this inopportune location? Based on that thought, I grabbed a few five gallon buckets, positioned them under the icicles, and collected water. Lots of water.

My original plan was simply to dump the buckets into the grate at the end of our driveway. The water would go to the river with the rest of the rainwater and snowmelt that goes that way. But Chuck said, hey, why don’t we keep it? Set the water aside and use it? (Haha, yes indeed, he did watch quite a bit of Homestead Rescue with me.)

Just to be safe, I strained the water through a clean towel and then boiled it. After the pots cooled, I filled canning jars and extra bottles and a few pitchers with this lovely, cost free, potable water. Now I have water that’s already boiled if I need to use my sinus rinse. I have water for cooking, making coffee, and more. All that, and I’m on a good quality municipal water system, too. The ice melt we collected is all bonus. All extra.

Best of all, I’m not slipping on the ice every time I walk out the door.

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Drumroll – Canning Begins!

It’s not a typical canning season – or a purely typical farmers’ market season – or even a typical garden season here at the O.K. Chorale. I’m in the middle of a Foot Surgery Summer, and that makes a difference everywhere.

I decided not to plant the whole garden plot, so Chuck decided he would put in a three sisters garden in the places I left open. Then he decided we usually have more than enough beans, so his part of the garden became two sisters: corn and squash.

I worry about being out of commission when the major tomato season arrives, so I actually started early. I made and canned barbecue sauce this week, and Chuck applied it to grilled chicken right away.

I also canned three bean salad. We still had yellow and green beans in the freezer, and fresh beans will show up at the market soon, so I pulled out my recipe file and made three bean salad, enough to last months. That’s the goal of summer canning, right? Make enough to feed the family for a length of time.

With Chuck’s help, I prepared some incredibly delicious strawberries for the freezer. That’s another task that may fall through the cracks as my foot puts me down: filling the freezer.

Then again, Chuck is stepping up to the plate, er, the counter and putting in time on the canning front. Footwork or not, we’ll feed the family. The pantry will be filled.

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