I was a bit concerned about how the chicken looked when I tried the third poaching method, which I am calling the forgotten method, and so I panicked and poached it a bit more using the traditional method. Because of this, I wanted to try making it a second time before writing about it.
This method results in the most aromatic chicken of the three poaching methods, but I think that I prefer the texture of the traditional method. The texture is just slightly different in all three methods. I am not sure many folk would notice. However, I have been studying poached chicken almost like I was on America's Test Kitchen, so I am intimately acquainted with the aroma, flavor, and texture of each method.
As I have mentioned before, I chose the same aromatics for all three recipes (smashed garlic cloves, sprigs of thyme, and slices of lemon), but now that I have poaching under my belt, I would like to experiment with those to see what I prefer. I plan to try sage and bay leaves next time. One suggested combination is star anise, ginger, and sesame oil.
In addition to poaching chicken, I also made two trays of the Maple Chili Roasted Pumpkin Seeds. I think of all the things I have learned to make, these pumpkin seeds are definitely in my Top Ten list. I just adore them! My favorite way to eat them is on salads, which feels odd to me, but is oh, so tasty!
It had been 76 days since my last meltdown. Yesterday, I was felled by trying to get the surgery scheduled once more. I actually called last Friday. Then I called again. Then I used the email system for the doctors. I just couldn't understand why it would take a month to schedule surgery and very much feared that, as before, I would finally reach a human being only to be told that September is all booked up and I would have to wait until the October books were opened.
If you want my opinion, having a scheduling system in which you can only leave a message, never reach a human being, is not that effective. You basically have to sit by your phone for 48 hours after being notified that you have been scheduled with the scheduler. ARGH.
At first, the woman tried to schedule me for September 30th or the first week of October. I was already weeping and I lost the paltry control I had over my tears as I talked with the scheduler. She was not happy with my tears and was ready to move on to the next patient. But I managed to pull myself together long enough to explain how difficult it has been trying to correct my blood sugar after crashes when even swallowing milk is a problem. And that I had waited a month for this call. And that I had waited two and a half months for the appointment in the first place. And I was already on the wait list for cancelations to try and get me in sooner. The end result was that I was tentatively scheduled for September 8th. I had to wait for a while to hear if an anesthesiologist would be available early that morning.
After the phone call, I struggled to calm down. I felt so very, very fragile. And I was scared.
I have started a trial of a different brand of the theanine. I was loathe to do anything to upset my equilibrium, but the new brand is 1/5th the cost of what I have been taking. The savings could really help, especially since the cost of the Larin is increasing since none of the participating pharmacies in my area can order it now. I have to go to a pharmacy outside my network. I will know for sure this weekend, but I believe the price will be approximately $12 more each time I pick it up, which is every 21 days.
I was really, really worried that I was falling back into battling anxiety 24/7 instead of the small measure of equanimity that I have enjoyed since starting the theanine. Right now, I remain unsure if it is the change or if it just all the things I am battling: my body, The Maids, scheduling, and the clock.
My father collected antique clocks. It is very, very much something that is ... defining ... about him. Out of the blue, my step-mother asked me if I would like one of them. I admit that I have found it profoundly hurtful to not even be mentioned in my father's will. I have wanted something of his, something that focuses on the good of my father, his strengths rather than his weaknesses. And antique were definitely his passion, especially clocks.
I described the one clock that, for me, represents what I ... well, it is the clock that I equate with him. I told my step-mother that I would welcome any of the clocks, but if she wanted to send that one, I would most appreciate it. I never heard back from her, so I assumed the matter had been dropped. Then, suddenly, FedEx was dropping off a box.
I didn't post about it for awhile, in part because it was damaged in transit and I was rather doubtful that I could get the glass on the face bezel repaired. But I did find a clock shop! I also have been hesitant to post about it because I have been rather emotional just looking at the box sitting on my deacon's bench. In truth, I spend many days walking around the house trying to figure out where I wanted it and why. In the end, I decided to hang it in the living room above the television, once I get it back from the repair shop (hopefully by the beginning of October).
Mostly, I have been a mess. I have longed for someone to reach out to me because of how much I am struggling. I did manage to reach my friend Emily on Wednesday, when feeling so fragile. For a while, talking with her about everything and nothing, I did feel more balanced, but I remain agitated. Well, not agitated ... maybe fragmented ... or discombobulated. Definitely fragile. Lots and lots and lots of clutching the life out of Amos.
It doesn't help that I have had two migraines and a constant headache. I think if I slip back into the cycle of chronic migraines, I shall just lose it. I am weary of pain. And I had been really, really, really proud of clawing my way out of that cycle. SIGH.
One thing I am thankful for is that we have had copious amounts of rain after the driest summer since I have moved hear. My grass went from almost completely brown to GREEN, except for the temporary grass that Firewood Man planted on the mound of dirt I'm waiting to sink back into the ground after the sewage repair. Not having to water the cucumber plants many times a day and the beleaguered new variegated maple tree every night has been a relief. The sight of GREEN grass blowing in the night breeze again has been a balm.
I do long for the sweltering STINKING HOT steamy heat to leave. Fall cannot come soon enough for me. The heat is just so hard for me to handle ... exacerbates the ills and frailties of my body.
Mostly, feeling so off balance and rather beleaguered, I would like a break ... and some bolstering.
[Have I mentioned lately that I do NOT want to go to court to get The Maids to pay for the broken floor register? SIGH.]
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