Nat’s dad’s surgery went fine, and everything turned out OK. I find myself sitting on a sofa I haven’t set on for over 5 years since Nat moved in with us.
The father is originally from Ukraine, and there’s food that reminds me of my childhood. The best part is the homemade pickled tomatoes. He knows how to make them just with the right amount of garlic, sugar, and vinegar. I had to stop eating more of them or risk stomach pain.
I walked the dog, a passive-aggressive mix of a Corgi and a Jack Russell. She had to be carried downstairs, and I could tell she was holding herself back from snapping at me when I grabbed her. She understood that if she wanted to go outside, I was the only option she had today. I understood that if I wanted to go somewhere, I needed to forget about it because she was in charge. It worked out OK.
What’s left at this point is to grab a good cup of coffee somewhere, as instant coffee doesn’t' agree with me (that’s OK - I don’t agree with it either).
![A jar filled with pickled red tomatoes, including celery and garlic cloves, is seen sealed and stored in a refrigerator](https://cdn.uploads.micro.blog/96826/2024/pickled-tomatoes.jpg)