This is the sort of breakfast that happens when I run out of maple syrup….
Doesn’t it look gorgeous?
Looks like there’s got to be something special inside.
And after six hours, there had better be.
I soaked the beans overnight. This time I used a mixture of pinto, black, and navy.
But first things first – we need fire.
My dad enlisted in the navy during WWII before he was old enough to be drafted and placed where he didn’t want to be.
I’ve seen pictures of him in those days – so young. A skinny, smiling, dark-haired boy, either shirtless, cigarette dangling, relaxing with shipmates, or so handsome in his dress whites that my eyes prickle with tears right now, just thinking about it.
He was a boy.
Nearly all of them were.
Ten years older than Alex is now. Not even that.
Scratchy’s been getting more website time lately, so this morning when Softie was sitting neatly beside the keyboard near our front window, I got my camera and took a few pictures.
Up until today, I still felt the residual effects from being sick and hardly eating most of last week. Foggy headed and suspicious of many foods that I’d ordinarily like. That was me. Unable to multitask without becoming grumpy and stressed. Such a joy to be around.
Today, my head is clear. I feel like I actually have a working brain in there instead of polyster fiberfil. It’s a nice change.
Not gonna look not gonna look not gonna look not gonna look if i don’t look you aren’t there so i’m not gonna look not gonna look not gonna look….
We had three pumpkins on the dining room table.
One – we grew.
One – Julia brought home from a field trip.
One – ……… actually, I don’t know where that pumpkin came from.
We didn’t carve them or paint them.
We just let them sit.
Until this morning.
I got up when my clock read 7:08 and didn’t realize I’d forgotten to set my clock back until I powered up my computer and the time display begged to differ.
Ah well. I’ve had enough sleep this past week that I don’t really care about missing my extra hour. And as this is the first morning I’ve woken up and not felt achy or sick or nauseous, I’m happy to spend that extra hour awake and feeling like me again.
The frost outside helped, too. So pretty….
I made dinner the other night. Yes, I’ve been feeling progressively horribler and horribler (sick people get to make up words as they go), but earlier this week I managed to throw a meal together using leftovers from the weekend.
And it was comfort food, after all. Chicken Tetrazzini. Creamy, starchy, warm and comforting.
So I picked all the chicken off the carcass from last Friday’s roast chicken, saving the skin and bones for stock, of course, and I cooked the spaghetti, and I made a bechamel which became the base for the sauce.
But I had no Parmesan. It’s one of the ingredients, though, and what was I going to do? (This is where being sick leads to insanity in the kitchen when things aren’t going the way they should. There’s no room for creativity. Bad Things will happen if you don’t use the Exact Ingredients Called For. Or, at least, that’s how it seems.)
And because I so wanted this to taste right (despite the fact that my taste buds were already working improperly), I caved. Yes, I did.