Photo by AviatorDave: My tuxedo cat Hugh when he was small, and the older female tabby I used to have. He eventually grew to twice her size!
Got home late — Helma fed me again, and I helped her finish a 1,000-piece puzzle. Ran errands all day between Wilkes-Barre and Dickson City (I live in-between), so by the time I arrived at her house I was pretty famished. I have no desire to cook for myself these days, I just eat mostly for maintenance than for pleasure. From August to December, I shopped for David’s favourite foods — not always the healthiest or delectable in my opinion, but the doctor said the priority was to keep his weight up. When David had cravings, I would always indulge him. Consequently, I can’t get excited about grocery shopping; it still has some association with illness, for me.
But when I’m at Helma’s, I have this (relatively) overblown appetite — it revs back up again as soon as I arrive at her door! Maybe it’s because David made himself at home at their dinner table that I feel I’m carrying on some kind of Fielding tradition by wolfing down Helma’s cooking. He raved about her German-style potato salad, and I can assure you, dear readers, that it is every bit as good as how he described.
I posted this photo of baby Hugh and his pal Abby because it illustrates what I wanted to say next: I want to thank the many friends who read this website for all the love and support shown via food, cards, visits, assistance, phone calls, gifts, comments and e-mail and telepath-ed kind thoughts. There just aren’t enough hours in the day to write or call everybody, especially right now because my circumstances demand that I deal with estate-related details and various things that are generally unpleasant but unfortunately necessary. (more…)
