Today I did laundry. I wrote, I cooked, I did some dinner party planning.
Yes, that was good, but I haven’t even gotten started yet.
Eilen is up for a visit. We went out for hot chocolate, at a place that puts homemade marshmallows on top of perfect perfect hot chocolate. They’re not very nice there, and they were playing unbearable music, so we sat in the cold and kept warm with chocolate and sugar and milk.
I got a package today, from the most wonderful friend. She teaches people how to fly in California. This is what she sent me. I think I might only cook French food until I have cooked my way through the entire book. It was my first birthday present.
Then Eilen sent Joey and I off to dinner for my birthday. Tomorrow is also our anniversary, and we were feeling very celebratory. Seven years. No fooling. We had the most caramel-y and salty in a wonderful way dinner. We had sweetbreads and brussels sprouts, and beef stew with horseradish spaetzle The chef who started the restaurant cooked alone in the open kitchen, and we listened to his ipod and I had too much wine.
And that’s it. That was today. Tonight it is supposed to snow. A lot. Maybe tomorrow we’ll break out the sled. Maybe.Tweet This