It's one of those days that's full of small tasks, many of them voluntary. We did not, for example, absolutely have to go buy a Christmas tree. But we did anyway (a fake one -- allergies do not make for a merry Christmas), and it will go in the corner of the sun porch, with the hot tub, and ideally we will not have to buy another for many years.
I think I opened up a whole new world for the baker at Byerly's this morning. I asked for the two chocolate croissants first, and when she said, "Anything else?", I said, "Yah, I have to figure out what I want." She said, "Who are these for, then?" "My mom and dad." "Oh. Is it someone's birthday?" "No. We just felt like it. Seemed like the thing." And she stared at me for a minute, and her expression was very strange. And then she said, "My daughter is four. I stayed up all Wednesday night with her throwing up. Do you think when she's your age she'll bring me croissants just because she feels like it?" I said, "Maybe. If you like croissants." She looked...hopeful. Definitely hopeful.
I'm just figuring out the last bit of dinner tonight -- I think it'll be lemon rosemary garlic bread, with the seared ahi and the roasted green beans. I think. I'm almost sure. It's been a pretty good cooking week for me: Swedish meatballs and potatoes and asparagus, Meyer lemon rosemary sauce on lamb and chicken with the other half of the potatoes and salads, and last night I did this thing with enchilada filling -- does anybody care what I put in (vegetarian but not vegan) enchilada filling? Because if you do, I'll tell you. Anyway, it was pretty good, and I have clear direction for improving it. And tonight I will be squeezing the lime and slicing the ginger and so on.
Lest you think I am a culinary goddess at all times, we also feasted on take-and-bake pizza. Which was pretty good, too, actually, or we wouldn't buy it.
Right. Back to it.