When I got home I immediately fed Ike. Yeah, he's still with me, and as he's not sick, and as he jumped off the bed and accompanied me to the bathroom each of the uncountable times I made that trip on Saturday night/Sunday morning, looking deep into my eyes with apparent concern each time (but no doubt thinking "Stop! I'm trying to SLEEP! And how can you possibly feed me if you spend all your time doing THIS?!?!?!")...well, Ike gets fed first no matter what. After holding my breath to keep from gagging while I dispensed one of his favorites, Whiskas Grilled Chicken Dinner in Gravy, with a fresh bowl of water on the side, I changed from work clothes into some comfortable sweats. I exchanged my contacts for reading glasses; my shoes for slippers, and made my way to my kitchen, where I had a little plain Fage yogurt and then, from out of nowhere, suddenly felt a mad craving for rice pudding. Central Market has a perfectly decent rice pudding, but I didn't feel like driving to Central Market. I knew I had all the ingredients at home, and I have a terrific recipe, so I decided I'd make it. It takes a while to make rice pudding, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. I turned on the lights on the Christmas tree, put on a little Handel, and puttered around in my kitchen, which shortly smelled pleasantly of vanilla and apricots and cinnamon and eventually...voila...I had a bowl of homemade rice pudding, which my stomach seems to have grudingly accepted. And there are leftovers. Sometimes slow is a good thing...
