Oh there was so much to adore today. For starters, I made it out of wallyworld with my sanity in spite of teetering on tiny heels with a honking seven week old draped over my shoulder. And when I say honking, I mean it. This kid sounds like a goose when he starts feeling hostile. He was in no mood to pushed along sedately in his car seat and he certainly wasn't obliging of my need to browse the pattern catalogs in the fabric section.
Babies really do cramp your style. Good thing they're cute.
To make up for throwing down between the bobbins and the bias tape, little man took a nice, long nap, giving me time to enjoy the sunshine and look over the remnants of last summer's garden. Between morning sickness and my ten year old's inability to comprehend how to fully water potted plants, the only things that survived our neglect are a scrawny rosemary that only Charlie Brown could love and a beautiful draping bit of unknown bursting with pink blossoms and a red ant colony.
Just when I was starting to feel depressed about the demise of so pretty a plant, I remembered my slab of beef thawing, and everything else faded away.
Mesquite steak, bernaise sauce, sauteed mushrooms, steamed broccoli, and tarragon buttered potatoes . . . well, a meal like that makes everything better. Not even finding the asparagus all wilted and useless could dim the sense of contentment that comes from cutting into a perfect steak.
Oh how I love Sunday Dinner.
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