Greater love has no man than pulling an ear of corn out of a bag...

I do not know if all that cleaning (work) is why I feel so wretched of if really there is no rhyme or reason. I have many bad days.  Today, honestly, my body wanted to call Marie and tell her that I just couldn't cook with her.  But my mind still did.  I went with my mind.

If ever you want to make me giddy and warm the cockles of my heart, visit me and pull an ear of corn out of your bag.  Yep, that's just want Marie did!  She didn't even know I've been mourning the lack of ears of corn in the store and thinking about how long it will be before I get to have the sumptuous Grilled Corn on the Cob with Cheese and Lime.  A deep sadness stealing over me at the thought of not tasting that deliciousness for months and months and months.  Then, Marie show up with the proverbial twinkle in her eye and a rather mischievous grin and slides an ear of corn of her bag ... asking if I wanted to eat it.

YES!

So, although I was (and still am) feeling rather wretched, not only did I get to eat slightly overcooked (sorry Marie and Michelle) Three Cheese and Balsamic Glaze Flat Bread and some chicken baked in Thai peanut sauce and served over basmati rice, but I got to have me some grilled corn again!  Thankfully, I had just enough lime left (one whole and one slightly squeezed half), since you want to serve it with two lime wedges to properly lime up your grilled deliciousness.

We made each one separate and ate them with wine ... cooking and talking for hours.  SIGH.

Michelle and Marie did the bulk of the work.  For the flatbread, I cut up the brie cheese and put together the flatbread when everything else was ready (and I over cooked it).  Marie and Michelle did all the hard work (Marie is already an expert at béchamel sauce).  I mixed the crema and cayenne pepper for the corn and cut the lime into wedges.  That was it.  Marie soaked the corn, de-silked it (with Michelle's help), grilled it, put it in the corn dishes, spread the crema, topped it with feta, and put the wedges of lime on the side of the ears.  My chief labor was preparing the chicken:  dip it in cream, lightly dredge it in flour (that Michelle measured, salted, and peppered), topped with a bit of butter, and poured the Thai peanut sauce in the French Ovals.  I also readied the water and rice, but Marie cooked it.  So, the bottom line is that I had all this tasty food and had to do very little work other than to stuff my face and sigh with deep contentment.

Mercy.
Those two gracious women even helped me hang the load of laundry I did out on the line.
More mercy.

After they left, I spend the day trying to rest, but my headache kept me from napping.  I am all discombobulated in body, with lots of pain, heart flip-flops, dizziness, and shakiness.  I am also short of breath when I do pretty much anything.  However, the house is clean, the kitchen is clean, the laundry is clean, and all I have to do is be a lump until this passes.  I don't think it helped that I awoke this morning around 5:00 with extremely low blood sugar.  I am always a tad grumpy after those crashes.  Grumpiness and malaise do not go well together.  I even snapped at my fluffy white lavender aromatherapy for not being careful as he crossed my abdomen to reach his most favorite spot on the GREEN chair before apologizing to him.  Amos forgave me ... after I fed him dinner with the Thai peanut sauced rice plate scrapings I saved for him.  Amos will eat anything except for bananas.

After all of that eating, Marie and Michelle took a walk before heading out.  Amos and I waited for them on the front porch, so I could savor the large pipe chimes blowing in the fall winds.  I took the time to dare read further in my Gospel harmony.  You see, the next section had healing as a title and so I was worried I would see Law and not Gospel and fall back into punishing myself for not being a godly suffering saint.  I want to write another Gospel Harmony Joy Note ... when my head is not aching so much.  Mostly, I did not understand what I read, but I was not ... worried ... about it.

I did have one thought:  One of the readings was about the woman who touched the hem of Jesus' robe because she believe touching doing so would heal her.  Not even hear the Word, but merely touching the Living Word.  So, uhm, well ... many I am not so crazy for sleeping with my NASB 1977 bibles when I am deeply troubled, frightened, or both???????


Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!