We have been in such a dinner rut lately, eating the same things over and over, until I had what turned out to be a brilliant idea: lend a cookbook to a friend who is more motivated in the kitchen than I am, and upon the return of said cookbook, cook the recipes she marked in the table of contents as worth making. One of the recipes that has made it into our regular rotation lately is a vegan sweet potato and black bean enchilada, which Ellie calls a “chinchillada”. That would definitely not be vegan. Those poor chinchillas.
It is possible our new cat is not the smartest. He spent about 20 minutes on Saturday morning folded in half over the bannister, playing with his own tail. However, he is currently curled up in the chair in my office, sound asleep, which is where Daisy would always hang out while I was working, so it is very nice to have the company. Today is my first day with both kids at the sitter’s! Thursday was supposed to be that day, but I had to go pick Ellie up at noon because she had a fever. Whatever virus it was (probably just a cold — for some reason her immunological response to any stray virus or bacteria cells in her body is to spike a high fever, regardless of whether it is entirely warranted or not) passed through the house on Friday and we’ve been feeling much better since, although when I dropped Zach off at his sitter’s this morning, she mentioned one of the other kids has a cold, which made me realize that in my gratitude and excitement over finding two lovely daycare providers who could accommodate my weird part-time childcare needs, I hadn’t realized that two daycares = two different sets of germs. Oh the humanity. At any rate, I have gotten so much done so far today I am feeling positively giddy! And it is so good for the introverts among us to occasionally spend a little while alone in a quiet house, even if quiet houses are prone to making one a little jumpy, especially if one has recently made the questionable choice of starting to watch Criminal Minds on Netflix.
This morning while getting gas, I was chatting with the guy who was pumping it (the only gas station in Wellesley is a full-service one, so I tend to sit and feel awkward while someone fills my gas tank, unless it is the dead of winter, in which case I feel 50% awkward and 50% happy and warm and relieved) and the topic of converstaion turned to the weather, as it is wont to do, and I said I was a little sad because I have a whole bunch of green tomatoes that I didn’t think were ever going to turn red due to the cold nights we’ve had recently, and he nodded solemnly and said he had heard from a lot of farmers that they were worried about paying their bills due to the short growing season this year. Er, yes, I suppose that is quite a bit more important than my green tomatoes.