I am the queen of leftovers. I just polished off the rest of Christmas dinner. I probably mentioned this in a previous column but, hey, if I can’t remember perhaps neither can you.

Studs Terkel once remarked, “My mother served leftovers for 20 years. A team of anthropologists set out searching for the original meal.”

When my children were little and we were living on a shoestring, they often disliked a soup or casserole. I blended it, added tomato sauce and served it over pasta. They were none the wiser and usually asked for seconds.

By the way, growing up in Rew, Pa., we never had pasta — just spaghetti or macaroni. I’m not sure I ever heard the word pasta. I know we never ate or used the word kale. The only brassica we ate was cabbage, usually in a ‘boiled dinner.’ This was similar to corned beef and cabbage, only a weak ham bone stock was the base for the cabbage, carrots and potatoes.

My mother worked outside the home which was unusual in the 1950s. She peeled potatoes every single morning and left them soaking in cold water all day. My job after school was to put them on the stove. My dad would mash the boiled potatoes onto his plate, filling the entire thing and then topped it with a half-stick of ‘oleo.’ He fit into his navy uniform into his late 80s.

I guess this is to segue into my own potato harvest. I did not dig nice large tubers like I have in the past. This was a result of neglecting my watering duties. I grew them the same way I always do. I place them on the ground, usually on top of last year’s winter rye, and cover with flakes of hay. Then I just walk away. They never need any serious weeding. This past summer, however, was so dry I should have been more attentive.

The day after Christmas I sorted though both my stored onions and potatoes. The spuds, although small, will last until spring. Not so the onions. I’ll lucky to get a few more weeks out of my stored crop. This fact sent me to my seed catalogs. I like to grow both onions and leeks from seed. It is a fraction of the cost of sets or plants and I enjoy working in the greenhouse on a cold sunny day. The cultivar copra is the best long-term storage yellow onion, but I cannot find seeds for it anywhere. I welcome any input.

There is a yellow house on New York avenue that used to be painted pink. Someone painted a big ugly sign on it that said, ugh pink. How rude. The owners painted it yellow after that. Anyhow, they have lovely Christmas decorations — subtle and classy.

I must be a true Luddite. I am not at all fond of the newest fad in seasonal lighting — the red and green lasers. I find it rather disturbing but, hey, it’s only my opinion. And as you know I’m not shy about sharing my opinions.

Driving in the early evening reveals an astonishing number of winter moths. Yikes. Last year they ate all my apple blossoms and decimated the maple leaves. I might resort to spraying in early spring. I need to do some research on horticultural oil and/or a Dipel-type deterrent. How I wish I would take my own advice. I tend to operate almost entirely in hindsight.

Now that the light has changed just a tiny bit, the hens are finally laying again. I was thinking of threatening them with dumplings.

I listened to The Point with Mindy Todd on Tuesday. She interviewed a guy who wrote a book about medical miracles. How I wish I could give the name and title. That information is lost in my short term memory vortex.

At any rate, it seems an EKG machine was badly needed at a hospital in Haiti. When one finally arrived it did not work. An American teenager was on a humanitarian mission at the hospital. He insisted his technical support team back in the United States could fix it. They took a chance and sent it back. Meanwhile, a doctor took his basketball star son to a playoff game somewhere in New Jersey. They went to the wrong gym where a lecture was being given about medical equipment and help needed at hospitals in Haiti. The doctor decided to go to Haiti for a week or so to help out and took his boy along. They arrived at the aforementioned hospital with the now-fixed EKG machine. They needed to test the machine and the teenage basketball player son of the doctor volunteered. It was then discovered that he had a previously undetected life-threatening aortic malfunction. He was rushed back to the states for surgery. To show their gratitude, they brought a Haitian orphan here for surgery on her terminal heart problem.

The point of this is I am taking a break from the terrifying imminent take-over of our country by the Trump team. Every day it just gets weirder and more troubling. I will be on the search for more feel-good stories. I’m reading more books and less newspapers these days.