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Once, not that long ago, the mere thought of doing something was as good as doing it.

But today I’ve trading thinking for doing – and I know I’ve hit the mother-lode in avoidance when the kitchen and cooking become a refuge.

All the doing has kept thoughts at bay though, including this one made by a writer-friend of J.D. Salinger, which I ran across in The New Yorker a couple of days ago.  Lillian Ross writes:

“Over the years, Salinger told me about working “long and crazy” hours at his writing and trying to stay away from everything that was written about him.  He didn’t care about reviews,” he said, but “the side effects” bothered him.  “There are no writers anymore,” he said once.  “Only book selling louts and big mouths.”

It’s not the conclusion I find as bothersome as Salinger’s comments about “the side effects.”  But rather than thinking about it, I’m just “working ‘long and crazy’ hours” in the kitchen, filling up my freezer and fridge with meals.

Meat Loaf, Roast Beef, Irish Beef Stew and Swiss Steak — with no side effects.

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