Natto Spaghet'

Yesterday the allergies won. I took a benadryl in the morning and it knocked me out until the afternoon.

When I got up, I had some leftover bean soup that my mother gave me and a cup of coffee.

While I was finishing my coffee, I called Judi. She had gotten sick during pilates the night before and I wanted to check up on her, make sure she was feeling better. She wasn't, but had made a doctor's appointment to get checked out. While we chatted, I managed to give her a good laugh: A few weeks ago I had asked her about her dentist since I'm trying to find a new one. She had given me his name and I had searched for it online to find his number but I couldn't find a listing for him. I asked Dave to ask her during pilates (since I didn't go) for his name and address, in case I had spelled it wrong or something. While they were talking, Dave checked his phone and found the right dentist. I hadn't spelled it wrong; The problem was that I was looking for a listing for Al Germissen and I couldn't find a Dr. Germissen anywhere or even a dentist who went by Al. Turns out the dentist was not Al Germissen, but Anthony Algermissen. Duh. Both she and Dave thought that was pretty funny.

After I talked to Judi, I got in the shower and got dressed. Then it was so late that it was time to start prepping for dinner! I was planning on roasting veggies and serving them with quinoa patties and eggs. I peeled and cut up potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, romanesco cauliflower, onions, and some baby summer squash.  I stuck all that in the oven along with some Brussels sprouts that Dave had prepped the night before. Then I fed some the little critters that we're responsible for and waited for Dave to come home.

When he got home, we worked on dinner together, making the quinoa patties and eggs and adding some sauteed Swiss chard to our meal.  While we ate, we talked about a story that both of us had read recently, Kino by Haruki Murakami. The story is in the 90th anniversary issue of The New Yorker, which is where I read it; Dave read it online. I love Murakami's writing, though I have to be careful of which of his works I read as some of them are pretty depressing and affect me quite negatively. I had to put down Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attacks and the Japanese Psyche because I found it so depressing that I felt myself getting pulled under the sadness.

After dinner, we went out for a drive, just to keep the old car's battery charged up. (We had a problem when we didn't drive it for a month after we got the new car.) We drove out to Sonic along Rio Grande and I got a small caramel shake. We were both pretty tired, so when we came home I went straight to bed.

Of course that meant that I was up around 1:30 a.m. I've been up since (it's now just after 6:00). I prepped Dave's lunch and made myself natto spaghetti for breakfast. We didn't have any butter or green onion though and only whole wheat spaghetti, so it was pretty basic, just soy sauce, salt and pepper, natto, and thin strips of nori. I thought too late of adding an egg. Maybe next time, as I still have another package of natto.