My absolute go-to food is one I seldom eat, but I will whip up a batch occasionally. It’s easy to make, and it absolutely soothes my nerves. It’s not for everyone, it’s a bit spicy, but it’s helped me through some rough times.

That food is namya. It’s Thai food, a light coconut curry sauce with fish to be served over rice noodles with cilantro. I think I’ve just lost some of my readers, what with cilantro and fish curry. But it’s flavorful and soothing, almost like chicken soup, but with a touch of spice.

As I said, it’s easy to make. take a can of coconut milk and pour it in a pan. Add a half-can of water. Put in a tablespoon of fish sauce, a tablespoon of red curry paste, some lime leaves, a chunk of dried galangal (if you have it), and sometimes I put in chopped cilantro stems. add leftover cooked fish or cooked ground turkey and simmer until hot and the flavors have melded a bit. Serve over rice noodles with cilantro.

You can use more curry paste if you want it richer, but that will also mean hotter (which is why you throw the other herbs in it instead). A trip to an Asian food store is a must before making this for the curry paste (although there is a brand of milder curry paste in US stores), lime leaves, and galangal.

This is my favorite comfort food. Often, however, I settle for something more mundane, like chicken soup.

I don’t play a lot of games (board or other). I play solitaire and some Yahtzee clone on my phone. I would play charades in a room full of people, no problem. But my favorite game to play is Scrabble.

I’m not a great Scrabble player. I know all the big words, but I’m not good at what gets the real points in the game — placing tiles that give multiple words. I knew a woman who had this skill, and she could play 600-point games. I never beat her at Scrabble.

I think being able to play multiple words by playing laterally is a spatial skill and this is why I lack it. I lack spatial skills, but my verbal skills are almost enough to get me through in Scrabble. Almost. Still, it’s my favorite game.

Am I seeking security or adventure? I’m 61 and pretty settled down. I also don’t have the endurance I want to have, so I think I’m on the side of security.

I never thought I would choose security to adventure. When I was younger (and unmedicated bipolar), I wanted adventure. I went on many (sometimes ill-advised) adventures in Chicago and various other places. I walked in dark neighborhoods at night, rode in a car with someone who shouldn’t have been driving, and talked down an oversize hippie who thought ‘free love’ was mandatory. Don’t get me wrong, I liked adventure, usually.

Nowadays, I do repeat vacations in the same place. I don’t go on roller coasters (although maybe I should fix that).

At least I am adventurous with some things. I am very adventurous about food. If Jamaican chicken curry is a sign of adventurousness, then maybe I am a bit adventurous. Just not the way I used to be.

This should not be any surprise for anyone who reads this blog, but in the debate between dogs and cats, I come down on the side of cats.

I have three cats, who are right now in the living room — Pumpkin Spice is lounging on the back of the couch, Chuckie is helping Richard make coffee, and Chloe is lurking around. Richard is talking to Chuckie, making up all sorts of new names for him, all on the variation of “Doofus”. (A doofus is a goofball, or silly creature). I can’t imagine life without them.

Cats are lovely creatures, graceful (except for Chuckie), silly (especially Chuckie), loving (we’re not so sure about Pumpkin Spice), intelligent, and curious. They’re little creatures with their own personalities, and they like to play little games with us like “Let me into the bathroom” (Chucky), “Imma lick your face” (Chloe), and “I love you I hate you” (Pumpkin Spice). They’re like idiosyncratic little people in fur suits.

I don’t mind dogs. I pet other people’s dogs. But dogs seem so dependent. They’re loyal and attuned to their owners. Cats, on the other hand, are not owned. They coexist with us and develop friendships. Dogs seem more like a hostage situation, although I’m not entirely sure who’s holding who hostage.

Obviously, I vastly prefer cats. My cats like me at least a little. How could I do without them?

I think anxiety gets better with age. After all, once someone gets older, they’ve seen everything. They’ve survived everything. They’re no longer thrown into the unknown.

What could I give up for the sake of harmony? Arguments. These are the things that most disturb my otherwise harmonious life, yet I have trouble letting go of arguments.

In my opinion, I’m right, this is important, and you better back down. Simple, right? Real life doesn’t work that way. My husband insists he’s right, and not only is he wrong, but a disaster will ensue if we follow his direction. So we argue.

What if I gave in and said, “you’re right?” We’d probably die. I’m not kidding — there was the time with stacking the duraflame logs in the fireplace when they clearly had a carbon monoxide warning not to do that.

Not all our arguments are life-threatening, though. I suppose I could give in for some of those.

I don’t have a single favorite genre of music. As a Boomer, one of my favorites is 70s Singer-songwriter music, because it’s what I grew up with. It was soundtrack music that I remember listening to on the car radio or on the little transistor radio I got for my birthday one year. I get rather nostalgic while listening to it. 80s music followed me throughout college, and I have a fondness for that too.

Folk music became an interest to me in college, when I had a friend who got me started on that. Pirated tapes and my walkman became my companions while walking. I especially liked folk revival like Steeleye Span and Renaissance. I listened to a lot of Celtic folk as well, having gone to Milwaukee’s Irishfest one year to listen to DeDannan and Capercaillie live.

I developed a liking for Baroque music at the same time. Since then, I’ve branched out to classical music in general and modern classical/classical adjacent in particular. I have become enamored of Minimalism, such as Philip Glass and Max Richter. I listen to a lot of Olafur Arnalds and Johann Johannson.

Now and again I listen to swing music. It’s a great genre on the road; not so great for naptime. Occasionally I listen to funk music or gamelan just because. I’m an eclectic listener. Sometimes I surprise myself with what I want to hear. Apple Music has been a godsend for my musical tastes because it contains a lot of everything, and I can listen on its subscription-based model without having to buy everything.

I don’t go on long vacations often. My husband and I go yearly to Starved Rock State Park for Christmas, sometimes a couple days for a writing retreat, a couple days for a conference (which I count as vacations because I go somewhere). Long vacations don’t happen much.

Once, however, my husband and I journeyed to Chicago. We traveled by Amtrak to Chicago over a Thanksgiving break and spent a few days there. We stayed at the Allerton, a nice old Chicago hotel, roamed around the Mile, ate in the Walnut Room at what used to be Marshall Fields (this is a Chicago joke; nobody calls it Macy’s). Visited Water Tower Place, walked along the river walk, and had Thanksgiving dinner at a nice restaurant overlooking Navy Pier. We went to a Broadway show (in Chicago; it happens), visited the Museum of Science and Industry, and stopped by a BIG Apple Store. It was Chicago for tourists.

The Chicago I explored in the mid-Eighties didn’t exist by then. I once dated someone from Chicago, and we spent weekends with two weekend bus passes and $30 in pocket change. We would wander around the city, eat ethnic restaurant food, and explore, largely on foot. The places we went were long since closed, or I would have taken Richard to Meyer’s Deli for the wondrous European candies or that Persian restaurant nearby. But my Chicago trip was superlative for the Christmas atmosphere and the sights.