Had a pack of frozen kale in the freezer for the longest, and since didn’t go to grocery and cooking what was in the freezer or on hand, decided to improvise.  First, oven braised the other Cornish hen I bought in red wine, rosemary and garlic; it came out perfectly braised, a gorgeous wine-brown crisped color that wasn’t crisped at all; the jus was perfect.  I thawed the kale and tossed it in garlic and olive oil until a little limp; added some cream until it was a little creamy, added some bread crumbs but not a lot, a little cayenne, some dashes of Worcestershire sauce; then ladled it in a casserole and covered with two slices of Swiss cheese, sprinkled  that with Hungarian paprika, baked for about twenty-thirty minutes.  It was divine.  Cheese melted perfectly and the flavors meshed wonderfully, the hint of Worcestershire giving it a subtle spice that went well with everything.  Funny even when I feel like cacabash how cooking comforts me.  Just now had the envie to make a bechamel sauce for nothing in particular…just whipped up a small batch of the most silken, creamy bechamel that I will use on…something.  But it is lovely, and tastes lovely…heavens I love to whisk.

I am dying to lie down but prolonging it because I think the longer I am recumbent, the stiffer goes my back, glutes and thigh.  Three places I almost think I’m the happiest being in–bookstore/library; church and a kitchen, provided the latter is cheery and filled with homey good will.

Think I figured out a way to wear my back brace without looking too much like Moby Dick in the waist with a gargantuan behind:  I’ve rigged it over my clothes in such a way that it looks like Therapeutic Goth.