I hope you will be relieved to hear that neither Walt nor I seem to have ptomaine poisoning.
Today was book store day. Last week I took a pork roast and found a nice crock pot recipe and when I got home from work, dinner was all ready. Much preferable to having to come home and fix a meal.
So I found this nice recipe for a Mexican dish, with pork cubes and black beans and spices and prepared that. Timing is tricky since I can't make it too early or it will finish before I get home from work, and if I wait too late, we eat at 9 p.m.
But this time I got the timing right and it was cooking nicely for a couple of hours before I went to Logos.
Where last week had been deadly dull at the store, this week was fairly steady. At one point I think I had 6 of 7 people all wandering around looking at books, and Susan, who always sends an accounting after you work, says that we made nearly $300, which is a good day.
Shortly after I arrived, this big Santa Claus type guy came in, fixed me with a steely gaze as he walked across the store and up to the desk. He stuck out a hand and introduced himself. Oh my goodness. It was a guy I knew from decades ago. He pointed out that he had added several pounds and his hair was white now (I told him I could identify with that remark!).
I remembered him and his family well, and was pleased that for once my own pre-dementia brain had no trouble doing so. His son and Paul had auditioned for the same role in the very first production of the Sunshine Children's Theater. Ultimately the role went to Paul and the mother was quite upset, because she obviously felt her son would have been better in the part. She accused the director of playing favorites because I had agreed to help with the founding and running of the fledgling company.
I don't remember if the kid ever got involved with other productions at STC, which became a home away from home for Jeri, Ned and Paul. I asked the guy how his kids were and he mentioned that this particular child (well, he's in his mid 40s now) was an attorney in San Francisco and had worked with the mayor at one point. I remembered reading about him and a very exciting project he had spearheaded for the mayor. So I guess the disappointent of losing the role of Paul had not devastated him for the rest of his life!
I read "The Bonesetter's Daughter," which I was enjoying very much, and left behind on the shelf at the end of my stint. I hope it will still be there when I go back to work next week.
Walt came to pick me up at 6, reporting that the 2nd game of the World Series was 0-0 in the third inning. We had cheered the Red Sox onto their win in last night's game. If you can't root for the Giants, might as well root for the team that Jeri is a fan of. In fact, her dog, Lester, a female dog, is named for one of the players on the Red Sox team.
When we got home, and after I'd given the dogs their expected treats, I went to check on the crock pot and that's when I discovered it was not on. In fact, it had been off so long that the pot was cold.
I asked Walt what he'd done, but he denies having done anything. All I know is that the thing was cooking away nicely when I left and was off when I got back and I didn't think the dogs knew how to operate the cooker.
Having no idea how long the meat had sat there, first hot, then cooling off, and then cold. I didn't know how long it took for all those bacteria to build and I didn't know if it was safe to eat...and I also didn't know how cooked the meat was. Was it still partly raw?
I decided to throw caution to the wind and turned the thing on to high and let it cook for a couple of hours while we watched the Red Sox lose the second game of the series.
I served the dinner and it was delicious, and the pork cooked and tender. But I still wasn't sure if it was safe to eat or not. But as I write this it is 3 a.m. and I seem to be fine, so maybe we dodged a bullet.