I do believe it’s my cooking mojo, trying to sneak over the border without a work visa. I ate the last of the baby spinach for lunch yesterday, and I also needed more goodies to go on top of it. So I just shopped by instinct, and I came home with sliced baby bellas, a small bunch of green onions, more goat cheese crumbles, a bell pepper, and even a small bunch of radishes (my children are fainting as we speak; not sure that I ever brought home radishes in all the years they lived at home).
I also had half of a killer sandwich for dinner: two slices of that garlic/jack bread, hummus on one slice and a whisper of mayo on the other and almost the last of the shaved honey ham, in between. I’ll take the other half with my salad today. [Already packed in my insulated lunchbox.)
It’s probably all his fault.
House is cool this morning. I remembered to turn off the window unit in my room last night. I should have turned off the ceiling fan as well. It is probably a fashionable 68°F here in the living room. I was torn between heading to the gym for a workout and warm-up, and staying home to make that sausage/egg/potato breakfast casserole (which would also provide breakfast for the next week or so, more if I froze it in portions and nuked them later).
I have asked to take Monday (or Monday afternoon) off if there is a 5th game in the Series.
Casserole won. Almost time to take it out of the oven. And all the dishes are either washed up, or soaking. I have a very small dish drainer because my counter space is so limited.
I will probably finish the heel flap on Willow’s sock today. On Sunday I plan to measure the head of each elder and then cast on for the first hat. [If we keep switching out elders every six weeks or so, I may be doing this all winter; if so, Firstborn, I’ll take you up on your offer to help out with yarn.]
Breakfast comes out of the oven in ten minutes. Time to sluice off and figure out what I’m going to wear today. If I took my spinning wheel and some roving, I could go as Rumplestiltskin’s princess...
Gold spun, while you wait. Yeah, that might work!
- Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!