For as long as I can remember, my tonsils have been the barometer of my internal weather system. My mother repeatedly dragged my younger self to the doctor's office sporting tonsils the size of grapefruits, usually accompanied by a fever and a raging sore throat. Miraculously, my tonsils were never removed, and all these years later, I've grown rather fond of them.
Whenever I have a particularly strong negative emotion - anger or hurt, for instance - my tonsils immediately make themselves known. Like two tiny hearts tucked into either side of my throat, they tighten up and beat furiously against my neck.
Though medical science generally regards tonsils as vestigial organs with no vital function, for me they serve as an early warning sign that my immune system is under stress. They'll begin to tingle, ever so slightly, and I know that if I don't slow down and increase my Vitamin C intake, I'll end up sneezing and coughing a day or two later.
My tonsils have been doing a fair bit of twittering over the past few days. I've been scrambling to finish the cookbook manuscript that was due on December 1st. Blessings to Meghan at Ten Speed, who graciously agreed to give me another week. The words are all starting to blur together now, and I've lost my perspective on whether this or that headnote is witty or boring or insightful. It's nearly done, hurray!
Not only has the cookbook been gobbling up my time, but other projects have also lingered on and stretched into more work than I had anticipated. On top of everything else, I hosted a holiday party on Saturday night for about 30 friends. Thank heaven for my dear friend Adam, a personal chef whom I collaborate with on all sorts of projects, for doing most of the cooking that night. We brought out 8 courses, and we nearly collapsed afterwards. It was all amazingly delicious, though I was too busy that night to actually eat. I won't detail the whole menu, but I can report that I'm happily munching on the leftovers this week, including Moroccan-spiced meatballs and North African winter stew.
Last night, prompted by my tonsils, I gave myself the evening "off" and had my pajamas on by 7:00 pm. I took a long bath, and nursed a glass of wine, and spent some quality time with Petra. I was fast asleep by 10:00, and felt much better this morning.
Several weeks ago, I deluded myself into believing that I would be basking in extra time in December, in which I would cook and catch up with friends and shop for unique gifts for my family. Ah, me. Maybe some other year...
