After a 2 hour nap in my own bed yesterday, I realized I needed to return to my regular sleeping arrangements. I used I think 8 pillows to prop myself up, and surround myself so I wouldn't roll over, but I felt good after that nap.
I had a mean craving for chicken marsala for dinner, but had zero energy to whip up my usual version. So I just dumped some marsala wine in a frying pan, added a well-pounded chicken breast (thank you Tim), and let it simmer for about an hour. It cooked perfectly, and pretty much fell apart in my mouth. My super-sweet 94-year old grandmother sent home dumplins for me (my parents took Kenslee down to visit with her for the afternoon), so I added them in with the chicken - and voila - delicious dinner if I do say so myself. I also realized the nice, ripe tomatoes on the counter hadn't been eaten yet, so I chopped up a few of them, sent Colin out to pick fresh basil, and mixed up a bruschetta topping. This too was delicious, except I hadn't planned for how awful it would hurt to fully open my mouth to eat it on the bread. In the end, I went to bed in my own snuggly bed, in dire pain, but with a satisfied tummy.
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