I made a meatloaf for supper tonight. I once probably had a recipe for this dish … I would bet it was from my mother-in-law. She was a Cook. She could bake anything and have it turn out looking professional. She clipped lots of recipes out of the paper and magazines and tried them out. She could put on a company dinner for a dozen or more people without turning a hair. Our younger daughter takes after her. Skipped a generation, as they say. Aforesaid YD is probably wiping brow as she reads this and rejoicing that she is living on the other side of the world. She did not and does not like meatloaf.
Anyway, what I do is throw ground meat, egg, breadcrumbs and whatever is handy into a bowl, mix it and throw it in the oven for an hour or so. Very forgiving dish. Never twice quite the same. As I glopped the mixture around, I found myself thinking about how many times I had made this dish. Say at least once a month in cold weather – ten times a year. Times the 56 (fifty-six!) years I have been married and responsible for putting supper on the table. That is one hell of a lot of meatloaf. That is one hell of a lot of years of putting supper on the table, for that matter.
It would be easier on me and on my long-suffering husband if I liked to cook. He likes to eat, my husband, and supper is one of the high points of his day. It has to be a set meal with meat and vegetables and salad or greens and a starch, although I have beaten him back to the point where Friday is hamburger day on a regular basis. He also cooks, or, rather, barbeques and so he will often be responsible for the meat portion of the meal. But the planning is my job. I find it a boring one and I do not clip recipes out and try out something new unless pushed to it. Even though I have been given an electric pot and a sous-vide cooker on various occasions. Oh, and a wok. Twice. I am not inspired.
To live is to have to do at least some housework, hmm? Even if you are living on the street with your possessions in a grocery cart, you still have to pick up your bedding and put it in the cart every morning. Most of us do much, much more. There are dust bunnies to be hauled out from under the furniture, fingerprints to remove from vertical surfaces, horizontal surfaces to polish, and all this after you tidy up and put away the huge number of things that get put on them. We all own too much stuff. And we wear too much stuff. I have just finished putting away the summer weight clothes and getting out the winter weight ones and within a few weeks will have to repeat this for winter coats and boots. And all this is just inside. JG spent the afternoon removing leaves from his lawn after first servicing the leaf-removing machine. And this morning he was cleaning furnace pipes.
If I sound cranky about all this, it is not without foundation. I feel cranky. I want to be Lady Mary from Downton Abbey and not, not, complain that I have nothing to do. I would like a maid to keep my clothes in order, a cook and a housekeeper, and maybe even a footman to iron my newspaper. What a strange and wonderful world that was, both for the people above stairs and the minions below. JG and I are re-watching the TV series with a view to remembering who and what it is all about before going to see the film. We enjoyed it the first time and are enjoying it again as we find we have forgotten a lot of the plot and some of the characters.
Easier to deal with than the plot and characters of the election, at that. I still have no idea how I am going to vote. I have never missed voting in an election since I was eligible to do so and am not going to break that streak, but wow, what a lack of viable choice. Well, at least I am not an American. JG is at present watching one of the Democratic debates. He is a braver person than I.
So are you, if you have managed to get this far. There are not even any photos to break up the text. Next time I will post about my flowering cacti, with illustrations, and so you have that to look forward to seeing.
And tomorrow it is back to left-over turkey.
Anyway, what I do is throw ground meat, egg, breadcrumbs and whatever is handy into a bowl, mix it and throw it in the oven for an hour or so. Very forgiving dish. Never twice quite the same. As I glopped the mixture around, I found myself thinking about how many times I had made this dish. Say at least once a month in cold weather – ten times a year. Times the 56 (fifty-six!) years I have been married and responsible for putting supper on the table. That is one hell of a lot of meatloaf. That is one hell of a lot of years of putting supper on the table, for that matter.
It would be easier on me and on my long-suffering husband if I liked to cook. He likes to eat, my husband, and supper is one of the high points of his day. It has to be a set meal with meat and vegetables and salad or greens and a starch, although I have beaten him back to the point where Friday is hamburger day on a regular basis. He also cooks, or, rather, barbeques and so he will often be responsible for the meat portion of the meal. But the planning is my job. I find it a boring one and I do not clip recipes out and try out something new unless pushed to it. Even though I have been given an electric pot and a sous-vide cooker on various occasions. Oh, and a wok. Twice. I am not inspired.
To live is to have to do at least some housework, hmm? Even if you are living on the street with your possessions in a grocery cart, you still have to pick up your bedding and put it in the cart every morning. Most of us do much, much more. There are dust bunnies to be hauled out from under the furniture, fingerprints to remove from vertical surfaces, horizontal surfaces to polish, and all this after you tidy up and put away the huge number of things that get put on them. We all own too much stuff. And we wear too much stuff. I have just finished putting away the summer weight clothes and getting out the winter weight ones and within a few weeks will have to repeat this for winter coats and boots. And all this is just inside. JG spent the afternoon removing leaves from his lawn after first servicing the leaf-removing machine. And this morning he was cleaning furnace pipes.
If I sound cranky about all this, it is not without foundation. I feel cranky. I want to be Lady Mary from Downton Abbey and not, not, complain that I have nothing to do. I would like a maid to keep my clothes in order, a cook and a housekeeper, and maybe even a footman to iron my newspaper. What a strange and wonderful world that was, both for the people above stairs and the minions below. JG and I are re-watching the TV series with a view to remembering who and what it is all about before going to see the film. We enjoyed it the first time and are enjoying it again as we find we have forgotten a lot of the plot and some of the characters.
Easier to deal with than the plot and characters of the election, at that. I still have no idea how I am going to vote. I have never missed voting in an election since I was eligible to do so and am not going to break that streak, but wow, what a lack of viable choice. Well, at least I am not an American. JG is at present watching one of the Democratic debates. He is a braver person than I.
So are you, if you have managed to get this far. There are not even any photos to break up the text. Next time I will post about my flowering cacti, with illustrations, and so you have that to look forward to seeing.
And tomorrow it is back to left-over turkey.
I don't know how I could manage cooking every day of my adult life. I have a few recipes that I cook, but getting around to them is a bit of a chore. Sue is pretty good at throwing meals together, but she doesn't love it either.
ReplyDeleteAh housework! I never see the point in dusting - you are just moving it around and it always comes back. Left to my own devices, I would be a follower of Quentin Crisp (after four years, the dust doesn't get any worse....) but my mother is coming to stay so the vacuum is out and dust is being temporarily relocated.
ReplyDeleteI would much rather be reading but need to find my next book having just read all 4 of the Steerswoman series back to back following your recommendation. Wonderful books (my 19 year old son is starting to read them now on my recommendation - I think he'll enjoy the maths!) So if you have any more recommendations, feel free to share!
Oh, I do hear you. I am a good cook, but I have become a weary and bored one. Rick is a compliant recipient, and offers up no ideas whatsoever: "Whatever you make is always good." And vacuuming could not seem more tiresome and pointless, what with two actively and constantly shedding cats. It was lovely to get away for a few days to visit a friend and not have to do or plan a thing! But here I am, back to All Of It again.
ReplyDelete