On our last night of official residence in this our old life, I have succeeded in creating one more dinner, sans range, from our diminishing larder. I whipped up a little salad of chickpeas, cherry tomatoes, feta, and crumbled bacon dressed with lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper. Sides of leftover cabbage with lime juice and cumin and toasted whole wheat bread completed a very satisfying meal. Dessert was cardamom dusted orange slices with candied pecans leftover from a school dish. My husband thinks I'm a genius.
It would have been a lovely vegetarian repast without the bacon, but it needed to be used and, well, I just love it. Although I am all for healthy eating (I'm sometimes quite annoying to my friends and family about this topic), I have my indulgences. Bacon is one of them. Many a dish can be yummied right up with the addition of a little bacon. Or ham or pancetta or sausages or proscuitto. I am basically a sucker for cured pork products, which do come from time-honored traditions and taste so salty-licious good. I have not yet, however, succumbed to the current fad for bacon and sweets, like chocolate dipped bacon or bacon chocolate chip cookies. I guess I'm a little old fashioned that way.
Other than dinner, the goal of the day was more packing. The rooms are beginning to echo a bit now that their sound absorbing furnishings are being removed in layers. The walls grow more bare. The anchoring necessities that remain are fewer. I even stripped, washed, and stored all the bed linens to burn our bridge, so to speak. It's time to begin the going away process. I am grateful for the grace period that makes the task easier.
In a few short minutes we leave for the farm with a few clothes and personal effects, a tiny step in the process of changing our lives. I am past the pangs of loss and the cloud of doubt and into a subterranean excitement. Bring on the change and the knowing. At least we're moving, not standing still.