little black journal

Ooooohhh, yesterday was a rough day.  I went to bed around the usual time on Sunday night, fell asleep within 30 seconds of putting my head on the pillow, and then awoke to feelings of uncomfortable nausea around 2 am.  Discomfort quickly turned into pain and by 4 am, I was running to the bathroom and emptying my stomach.  So glad that I scrubbed the toilet and the bathroom floors on Saturday, because I spent the much of the next 6 hours laying on the cool tile of our bathroom floor, hoping with each bout of gagging that it would soon be over.  Was it the slightly undercooked chicken I ate for dinner the night before?  Had I picked up the flu from someone?  Whatever the reason, I felt terrible.  I spent the entire day in bed, doing whatever I could to make myself comfortable, which wasn’t much.  Fever and achy-ness set in around 4 pm to add to my misery.  Thank God Shane had yesterday off of work.  He gets a gold star for nursing his whiny, sick wife back to health.  He did whatever he could to make me feel better – setting up the computer in bed so that I could watch a movie, rubbing my back as I tried to fall asleep, monitoring my fluid intake to make sure I avoided dehydration, even baking me applesauce muffins when that was the only thing that sounded good to me (and baking is not one of Shane’s favorite pastimes).  I don’t know what I would have done yesterday without him.  Today I was at about 80% – well enough to go into work, though there were times today when I was tempted to crawl under my desk and take a nap.  I hope to be back in full force tomorrow.

The really fantastic thing is that now I know that Shane can bake – I’ll be taking advantage of this little tidbit in the future…

Today was a hot one, especially by Seattle standards, with temps topping 90 degrees.  So when the kids a few doors down from us invited Shane to participate in their watergun fight, he couldn’t resist.  He was clearly living out his James Bond fantasies, ducking behind trees, nailing people with his super-soaker left and right.  He showed no mercy, which is why I chose to watch from the safety of our second floor window.  Boys will be boys, I guess…

Shane got back last night from his 5-day business trip down to Tuscon, and it is wonderful to have him home again. While I enjoyed having some time to myself, and appreciated being able to spend my Saturday afternoon watching chick flicks instead of the NCAA tournament, I was starting to get a little lonely. Spending a few days on my own has caused me to appreciate all over again just how integral Shane is to my day-to-day life. He keeps the blankets from falling off the side of the bed in the middle of the night. He is that shoulder I need to lean on after a stressful day at work. He doesn’t let me spend all morning watching reruns of Beverly Hills, 90210 (I found I need someone to call me out on my trash-TV binges). He makes sure that I laugh deeply and regularly. He remembers to always close the garage door and turn the heat down at bedtime. He keeps me from being freaked out by the noises that the house makes at night. He takes the garbage out when it’s cold and raining outside. He makes certain that I always feel loved, appreciated, and pursued. He leaves his socks on the floor and his empty glasses on the coffee table (wait – that might be another post…).  Anyhow, I’m happy he’s home.  Life is so much better when he’s around.

I’ll admit that I was a little skeptical when Shane said that instead of going out, he wanted to cook Valentine’s dinner for us at home this year (I had visions of him walking through the door with a take-and-bake pizza and a bag of pre-mixed salad), but shame on me for doubting him. My man really pulled out the big guns on this one. Our menu consisted of stuffed Cornish game hens, asparagus, and fresh baguette. Fancy. And delicious. Then hens were stuffed with a rice pilaf and baked with fresh rosemary, garlic cloves, and lemon wedges, then topped with a gravy made from white wine and the leftover juices. Mmmmmmm…

I was in charge of dessert and decided on bananas foster, for its decadence and simplicity. Paired with vanilla ice cream and a small glass of the Port I gave Shane for Valentine’s Day, it was heaven. Quick word to the wise, though: make sure you’re leaning away from the pan when you light the rum on fire. Shane was taken by surprise by how high the flames leaped up (I laughed as he immediately raised his hands to his forehead, checking to see if his eyebrows were still intact).

The best part of it all? Taking the time in the midst of a busy week to sit down at the table and devote our attention to one another for a couple of hours. Our lives have been rather hectic lately, with me studying for my licensing tests and Shane working insanely long hours. We had lots of catching up to do, and what better way to do it than over good food and wine?

Many thanks to my husband for putting himself out there this Valentine’s Day. Shane is the first to admit that he’s typically no ace in the kitchen (unless you’re in the mood for a cheese quesadilla), and it would have been easy for him to pick up the phone and make reservations at one of Seattle’s hundreds of restaurants. Watching him go to such great lengths to make this meal extra-extra special reminded me that I am one incredibly blessed woman.