About Me

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Four 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!

Saturday, March 21, 2015

My children are amazed.

First, that I am hungry All. The. Time. It's a side effect of the Metformin, which is an oral hypoglycemic. The thing I have learned in the past year, is to eat often but eat well. It has been so strange to consciously increase my intake, particularly of proteins, and largely eliminate dairy, when for decades I was a bread and milk girl.

They had cereal for breakfast on Saturday. I wanted more, so I bundled up and walked back to Thursday's restaurant for more French inspired deliciousness. Last time I had a gallicized farm breakfast: scrambled eggs, thick crisp bacon, and impeccable toast with seedless blackberry jam.

This time I had the Croque Madame: whole grain French toast, sliced tomatoes, tissue thin ham, béchamel sauce, some sort of cheese, topped with an over-easy fried egg, and served with a fruit cup. I sprung for a small hot chocolate.

Have I mentioned that I love Minneapolis?

After breakfast I walked up the street to the Mary Tyler Moore statue. Came back by way of the Barnes & Noble, where I bought the Steve Tyrell CD that I heard at the Mall of America, and a gastronomic memoir that, so far, is every bit as charming as "Cooking for Mr. Latte".*

It's hard to read with my darlings around (at least they're not fighting over hairbrushes), but I would appear to have a winner for the flight home. And maybe new recipes to try.

I've been knitting a cowl from some gorgeous bright tweed yarns that Tola sent me. I'm loving the fabric, but I think I may have cast it on a little too wide. I might frog it back and start over.

Finishing this on Monday. Travel is wonderful, but there is perhaps nothing so sweet as waking up in one's own bed and not having to tiptoe because of roommates. I frogged the cowl and started over for what I think is the third time.

*The book is 99% delightful and 1% ick. While we are out and about today, I will pick up a bottle of correction fluid. I will be writing "Nutella" over the F-bombs. Two so far. In a culinary memoir. Really? There are a couple of recipes that I want to try. If they're as disappointing as the expletives, this book is going in the trash. I am definitely not recommending it.

So. Today we are working on the honey-do list and going to see Cinderella. I saw it at Mall of America on Friday night. Yes. It's that good.

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