Sometimes I imagine how it would feel to discover an episode of, say, Sex and the City, that I’ve never watched before.
Now I don’t have to because a couple of days ago I learned of a Kenneth Branagh-directed movie co-starring Emma Thompson that I’d never heard of and let me tell you, it felt great.
Yesterday was the first official day of my Christmas vacation. I was so excited that I bolted awake at 7:30 a.m.
I baked the cookies: the usual gingerbreads, shortbreads, and snickerdoodles, and, thanks to a recipe from a friend at work whose mother in law is Greek, some kourabiedes.
Posted in At Home
Beast: Great news. The blood stains came out of the sheets. They are washed and the bed is made.
Foodie: This is maybe the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me.
Beast: But the whole process got me thinking…
Foodie: Go on.
Beast: Maybe it’s time you switched to pads.
Beast: At least during the night. You aren’t a 16-year-old girl anymore!
We’ve been on a real good soup kick. I made a butternut squash soup the other night using this Thomas Keller recipe, which seemed pretty complicated so I just removed all the complicated bits–the bits that made it a Thomas Keller soup, essentially. Still, it was pretty good.
On Friday morning I was stung by a wasp and basically now I know the pain of childbirth.
I was home sick on account of a cold. The Beast was out on a bike ride. I went up to the deck to read. I put up the umbrella, and placed my hand directly on top of the fucker, and its stinger pierced that fleshy part of my palm, right between my thumb and index finger.
So we were upstairs folding laundry when the trouble started.
Foodie: What is that?
Foodie: THAT SHIRT. It’s camouflage.
Beast: Oh that shirt. Listen, before you get mad, let me explain.
If I ever write a fictionalized account of my time not working I’ve already got two potential titles: Domestic Economy (which I think speaks for itself) or I Wake Up Flexing. I’ve also got the title to the sequel. It’ll be called I’ll Stop Flexing When I’m Dead. The plots are a little vague, but they all involve a protagonist who is a stay-at-home dad without any kids and who wants to have a body builder’s body but even with all the free time in the world he can’t get into healthy eating.
They call it fiction for a reason, because this summer is all about healthy eating, Beast Style.