It's finals week, so I've got a weird schedule, and in theory this should give me some time to post and catch up...except that I'm furiously also trying to get some online shopping done today and tomorrow because it seems that after that I will have to pay up the wazoo for shipping...and of COURSE I waited until the last minute to shop (don't shake your heads, I know that you all are in the same boat!)
Yes, 'tis the season for holiday business. As I've written before, we are lucky enough to celebrate both Hannukah and Christmas (Walter's side of the family is Jewish; I was raised Catholic). So right now, we are in the midst of what I call the Christmukkah season.
So, on Friday night (yep, I'm going back THAT far), we kicked it off...Walter and I hosted the annual family Hanukkah-fest, which includes consuming copious amounts of wine (for the chef...me) and eating loads of Latkes...or fried potato pancakes. The good great thing about Latkes is that they are completely yummy. I mean, it's a fried potato for peet's sake, what's not to like?
The bad thing? They are best when they are served hot, and right out of the oil (sorta like all fried potato foods I imagine). When I'm fixing them for just a few people, this isn't a problem...when I'm fixing them for 30? It's a challenge.
Luckily, my sister-in-law, niece, and I almost have it down to a science...almost, We set up three or four frying pans on my 6-burner stovetop. This year I shredded 20 pounds of potatoes, mixed with 10 pounds of chopped onion...I usually feel like I'm on Top Chef at this point) and lined them up in four big bowls, and we conduct a sorta assembly line of me dropping the potato mixture in the oil, my SIL in charge of flipping them, my niece in charge of collecting fried potatoes on a pan and getting them into a low-oven to keep warm.
Everything was going well (or as well as could be expected when you have hot-oil on the stove, kids running around and us yelling at them to "STAY OUT OF THE FREEKIN' KITCHEN! CAN SOMEONE KEEP THE LITTLE ONES OUT OF THE KITCHEN???????) until I heard a "THUD" right behind me and turned around to see a whole tray of Latke's on the floor. Apparently one of the finished trays slid off the counter...
Now, if it were just me, I'd have probably picked up the things and eaten them...5 second rule, right? But we had guests, so into the trash they went (probably about 25 of them...sad, so very sad).
Ah well...everyone got one less Latke this year.
Despite the great Latke-drop, the rest of the evening went well. We ate too much anyway and had a grand time, and this year I managed to figure out how to cook a decent brisket. It's a family tradition and it's not in my regular repertoire of foods that I eat or cook, so I always flub it. This year, it wasn't bad...the secret was cooking it, cooling it, then reheating it, so basically, I served leftovers...who knew?
Other news from the evening? Before we even got started, DramaGirl was having a minor melt-down because the PERFECT PAIR OF JEANS were not washed. I told her to wear another pair and "look at me, I'm wearing sweats!" (ok...big mistake suggesting that DramaGirl look to me for fashion advice...I mean, even if I am fashionable, I am still a mom).
Her comment to me? "Mom, you're the chef; no one expects you to look fabulous!"
Anyway, due to the overindulgence, on Saturday morning I really needed a run, so Elsie, Betty and I met up for a rainy run in Balboa Park. We decided to meet at Elsie's house and run from there, into the park and back. We've done this run many times. I ALMOST didn't go, but I did. Betty and Elsie are my heroes for waiting for me.
It started out as a perfect morning for a run. It rained the night before, so it was still cool from the run, and when we started, although it was overcast, it wasn't raining. As we ran through the park, Betty and I ran into Edith and Stoney who had joined the San Diego Track Club's run which started on the other side of the park. That morning was the first run for the new RnR runners, so we decided to skip it. Very nice to see Edith out. Betty and I were running at a very easy pace. We talked about the potential for rain and remembered that our first run for the RnR program, we ran in a deluge.
Betty and I ended up running about 2.25 miles into the park, then she decided to turn around and head back. We were running at a VERY easy pace (this was my first run after Vegas).
Me? in my infinite wisdom decided to run another 1/4 mile up the street before I turned around so that I could log an even 5 miles...I don't know, maybe not my smartest move because at about mile 3 my foot started to ache.
Then it really started to hurt.
This time it wasn't the heel or plantar fasciitis part of the foot, but the top, sorta where the foot bends. It didn't hurt as much when I ran on the grass (softer surface), hurt more when I ran on the asphalt (harder surface) and if I had to run on concrete? forghetaboutit...I walked.
And I was running SLOOOWWWW, oh so slow, think 13+ pace slow...so slow it took me 1:10 to do the five miles...THAT slow. (it actually took me until today to even LOOK at the stats from my Garmin...I knew it was THAT slow).
Then it started to rain. Really rain.
Running in the rain in front of the San Diego Zoo (early, so no crowds yet).
I eventually made it back to Elsie's, soaking wet. Elsie was kind enough to provide me with some dry clothes, a hot shower, some ice, and of course some breakfast.
Mimosas with Elsie and Betty...of course
It's Tuesday...and the foot still hurts. Yesterday, I wore heels to work...bad idea (everyone say "DUH!"), then after work, I decorated a tree, cooked dinner, did some other household chores, so by last night, my foot was pretty swollen.
This morning, it's not so swollen any more, but it still hurts and I'm as frustrated as hell with my lousy feet.