Just an Ordinary Day

More or less. When the Hubs came in a little while ago, he said he had to be at the airport early tomorrow, because he was going to be named as Obama's running mate. Heh.

You may or may not recall that after the Crohn's diagnosis, I vowed that I would never be obsessive about food again. And I am true to my vow. What I didn't consider was that one day K would go on W8 Watchers and she would obsess about food and I would have to go along for the ride. Hmm.

I'm not counting points or doing any of that, although she certainly is. She has also decided to start cooking, which is not as charming at the end of the week as it was at the beginning. She doesn't actually know how to cook, so this is all new to her. (Despite anything I've ever said, I do know how to cook, I just generally prefer not to.) She finds recipes and decides to make them, which is fine, and then she makes a list of ingredients as long as your arm, and we go food shopping. Oy. Vey. Once you know what you're doing, you take shortcuts, like leaving off the garnish if you want to, but she's not up to that yet. My refrigerator is bursting with food, nearly all of it ingredients for something or other. Earlier this week, she realized that she wasn't going to be able to make the chicken we got, so I had to freeze it. Her cooking skills are not yet up to knowing how to freeze things.

By the time we got back from the supermarket this afternoon, she had a migraine, which, okay, happens, but she was grumpy. I went back out to the fish market to get the halibut for tonight's recipe -- no halibut at the A & P -- and they were out of it, too, so I got sole. I thought, if I tell her it's not halibut, she'll freak, so I offered to make it, a very simple baked halibut sole, but just before we sat down she bounced into the room extolling the virtues of Excedrin Migraine pills, so I told her, and all is well. And it was very good, too.

That's the extent of my news for the day. (I had not a single thing to write about yesterday.) I have a week to go before school starts, roughly. I've got to make the most of what time I've got!

(Oh, here's a good one. I got email from the Chum today, whose name, btw, is Chum Phelps, and says as far as she's concerned, the best thing about the Olympics is that she hasn't had to spell her name to anyone on the phone all summer. Another little heh.)

WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1838
SUMMER BOOK #7: My Life in France by Julia Child