Finally watched “Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb”.
Enjoyed it a lot.
Cried a lot.
Alas.
Finally watched “Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb”.
Enjoyed it a lot.
Cried a lot.
Alas.
Indian lemon soup.
Salad: baby spinach and lamb’s lettuce, onion, avocado, goat cheese, roasted pine nuts, and a vinaigrette with macadamia oil and aceto balsamico bianco.
Fresh ciabatta with olives, homemade aioli, guacamole, and baba ganoush.
(And a sadly rather unremarkable Australian Shiraz. Alas, can’t have everything.)
People, if someone tells you that you hurt them.
Do NOT say “but I didn’t intend to hurt you”.
If you’re a 5 year-old “I didn’t mean to make them cry” is maybe still valid. MAYBE. But if you’re an adult, and a friend tells you that you hurt them, it’s NOT.
WHICH MATURE ADULT ACTUALLY INTENDS TO HURT THEIR FRIENDS???
Cats be like: “But we want people food. We want people fish. We want people meat. We don’t want any stinking luxury cat food. Not even if it’s chicken and trout with potatoes and parsley and an extra teaspoon of soaked psyllium husks.”
Also, yes, I’m the person who will carry her cats to their food, who will put them down in front of it, pet them, and explain to them exactly what it is and how awesome it is.
Crazy Cat Lady? THIS IS HOW IT’S DONE.
When writing happens at a geologic instead of a gastropodal pace…
Salad wrangling: rucola and lamb’s lettuce have been washed, dried, and stored. Baby lettuce, radicchio, tomatoes, and scallions are currently enjoying a water/vinegar bath. Afterwards, they will be dealt with appropiately. Already stored: iceberg lettuce.
That makes five different kind of lettuce about to live in my fridge!
“…in my fridge” should really be a meme.