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After a sluggish workday due to my only having had time to scarf down a pear for breakfast and a handful of stale trail mix for lunch*, I jumped into the car at 2:30 with a pep in my step despite the grumbles emanating from behind my naval. I had the rest of the day to myself. The sun and the cold were inviting.

On my way home I picked up the CSA share which was particularly good this week: beets, arugula, spinach, delicata squash, lettuce, kale, bell peppers, potatoes, sweet potatoes. (We've been getting so many potatoes that I had to designate an entire drawer in which to store them; with today's batch, the potato drawer has officially reached max capacity, so some of the sweet potatoes have shacked up in the oil and vinegar cabinet.)

Once home, I buried my face in a pile of leftover Chinese takeout, greeted the piano tuner, and did some work (re: Facebooked) on the computer while he did his best to bring my baby [grand] back from the brink of honky-tonk so-flat-it's-starting-to-sound-like-Baroque-tuning awfulness.

Few joys in life rival that of practicing on a just-tuned piano. So I did that for a couple hours until I got frustrated and hungry. Uncanny how those two sensations always seem to go hand in hand. Then I made dinner, which turned out to be a more extravagant affair than originally planned.

It all started with some poblano peppers. I chopped up some tomatoes and onions and stuffed them inside the peppers along with a bunch of cheese. But there were a lot of tomatoes and onions left over, not to mention a large amount of cheese, so I decided to make a pizza too. And then decided to make a salad to go along with the pizza and peppers, so at least there'd be a modicum of healthy pretense happening. So I roasted some beets.

The pizza dough was already rolled out by the time I realized I had no pizza sauce. So I grabbed a handful of beet greens and made pesto.

All this to say that I made dinner and ate it and cleaned up the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher and did two loads of laundry and folded one pile of laundry and cleaned out the litter box and took out the trash and was feeling pretty pleased with myself as I settled down to plan the menu for a dinner party this weekend.

Then I heard it. Retching coming from the living room. The cat was throwing up on the floor. Large chunks. All over the hardwood. I watched him do it. He looked up at me as if to say, "Your day was going too well. I have to keep you grounded somehow."

*I realize that this sentence structure is atrocious. Duh, it's me. But I've just had to deal with the eliminations from both ends of a cat, so the least you can do is deal with some less-than-pristine grammar.

#food #cats #domesticity #DonnaReed


It is the first of November, and spring is in the air.

Everything has been happening later than usual this year. We were still getting tomatoes in our farm share this week. The weather went from sweltering to frigid in a span of eye blinks. The leaves stubbornly clung to their summer shades even as they could no longer cling to their branches, rejecting their inevitable transition into fall fashion. Piles of still-green leaves lay un-raked in the yard. For awhile, it was as if autumn had just decided to phone it in this year.

Until this week. This week, the leaves finally shed their chlorophyll uniforms and suddenly the trees exploded in a blaze of red and gold, just in time for Halloween. Save for a few apathetic rain showers, the skies have been clear, the air balmy. I spent Halloween drinking overpriced beer, eating ice cream, and circumnavigating drunken droves of amusingly clad (some more amusing than others, some less clad than others) Millennials in Fells Point. I spent the day after Halloween having lunch with some dear friends, going thrifting all over the city, drinking in the April-in-November breeze, and relishing the strange but inviting arrival of fall.

What a fantastic time of year. A concert tomorrow, another in a couple weeks, a recording to make before the end of the month, plus the usual work stuff. A totally manageable, unstressful work load. (I just jinxed myself, didn't I? Just you wait...things are gonna get crazy and hectic and in a few days I'll be back here on my invisible soapbox bemoaning how I don't ever have time to make a three-course dinner anymore, while the world's smallest violin plays a sarcastic lament in the background.)

Once all that is done, it will be time for my favorite holiday ever, the holiday wherein one's sole objective is to consume an obscene amount of stick-not-only-to-your-ribs-but-to-your-thighs-and-butt-and-arteries-yeah-we're-gonna-outdo-ourselves-with-the-artery-clogging-this-year food (and be thankful for our bounty, and thank Squanto, blah blah, but let's be honest here, it's about the food) and then, like only this consumer-driven country can, immediately discard the gratitude with the pants that no longer fit and descend upon the retail outlets in a maniacal mob, still hungry, now hungry for things, it's all about things, things on sale, gotta get the things cheap so you can turn around and buy more things, and if/when you get too tired to set foot in an actual shop there's always the Internet, so you can sit splay-legged in bed, your overburdened sweat pants carving a pattern into your distended belly flesh while you hungrily purchase a [insert unnecessary-but-it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time-because-it-was-on-sale-700%-off item here] and contemplate raiding the fridge for leftovers because all this hunger is making you hungry again.

#fall #Thanksgiving #Halloween #commoditiesfetishism


My website is not working in Chrome, so in order to write this post I had to use Safari. The lengths I go to for my readers. (I'm kidding. I know no one reads this. Well...my sister reads this. I'm doing this for you, Lynn.)

I have a free afternoon, and while I want to say I'll spend it practicing Schubert and doing laundry, I'll most likely end up making and devouring a few too many grilled cheese sandwiches and obsessively reading Game of Thrones. And wearing my Cardinals cap around, because Game One of the World Series is tonight, and the Birds are gonna cream those bearded Beantown batters like a Boston cream pie. I'm not the most imaginative or even intelligible gal around when it comes to simile.

#grilledcheese #Cardinals #Lynn