Death by Pot Roast

 It has crossed my mind many times over that I could kill Someone with pot roast.  Someone is a hard-core carnivore in every sense of the word. I like to put a roast in the crock pot in the morning. Dump in a chunk of meat, onion soup mix, ketchup (or tomato juice), chopped-up carrots and potatoes, a stalk of celery because it makes it smell extra good, and use the setting for low heat. It cooks all day long while the house is empty (except for our sweet dogs). When I come home, I can smell that wonderful aroma before I even open the door.

Early in our marriage, I learned that Someone always eats in one meal whatever amount of pot roast that’s cooked. We can have leftover vegetables, but the meat is never enough that some will be left over for another day. I even bought a larger crock pot so I could cook larger roasts, and then it just got ridiculous. Nobody should eat that much meat in one week, let alone one meal.

Someone is well aware of the fat content in a beef roast. He doesn’t care. It’s why he runs (he says). He can just eat whatever with no consequences because he runs. I don’t think it works like that, but what do I know? At this point, I just make pot roast a few times a year. Of course, it’s a simple task and Someone could make his own damn pot roast, but in his mind, a crock pot is a black box device that requires two x chromosomes to divine.

Someone is about to have rotator cuff surgery (Monday afternoon). He will not be running again for many weeks. He’s been stressing so much that…I might have to start drinking again. No, just kidding, but Lord, he’s driving me crazy with all the stressing out he’s doing. We are very different types of people, or maybe I’m just better at appearing chill to the outside world when my inner world is walking a tightrope. Right now, and for the past week, his entire world is revolving around this surgery and his recovery. For whatever weird reason, he even took off half this week so that he has extra free time to worry about it all. 

To say I’m ignoring it would not be true. Of course, I have to be involved. I’m taking him to the hospital and bringing him home. He won’t be able to drive for weeks. I’ll have to take him to physical therapy several times a week and to his follow-up doctor appointment. I won’t be able to go anywhere until he’s managing himself, but fortunately I can work remotely. And here we are on the brink of Christmas. I still have shopping to do, and decorating, and presents to wrap and ship.  It’s a lot…and I have only two days of freedom left. That’s what’s on my mind, far more so than his shoulder.

So, enough blogging for now. I’m out of here soon to go Christmas shopping and dog walking…and there’s a basketball game on TV at noon that I want to watch. Just maybe, I’ll go hit a small bucket of golf balls today. We have unseasonably warm weather today – we can’t let that go to waste!