Apr 6, 2011

When the cat's away, the mice don't cook

I made it one week on my own without cooking or washing one dish. Wonderful invites from friends, birthday leftovers, and a healthy milking of the pity-the-poor-man-with-no-wife-to-cook-for-him had me bathing in chocolate cake, chile, even a few moose-dogs. Re-using the same plate for each re-heated leftover meal made life even easier.

It all started to unravel on Monday. The last of the leftovers, atleast one week old, had me eating falaffel on sourdough pancakes, with the last can of rootbeer, watching "Community" on netflix. A true Jim Belushi moment. But with a B&B guest/friend on his way, it was time for dishes and some shopping. Next night we co-created a pizza and salad, washed down with icecream and homemade fudge sauce and homemade whipped cream.

This morning started with 6am Bikram yoga, then home to take care of 2 batches of chicks, 2 chicken coops and the cows. Plucked some kale & spinach from the garden, added it to the yogurt I'd made the night before to wake up my stomach with a green smoothie, along with a fried egg still warm from the coop. Two hour work call, indulgent late-morning nap, left-over pizza for lunch. Continuing the indulgence theme, I closed the computer and followed the command of Brother Sun to be outside all afternoon in the garden. Made a fresh greens salad with sauteed mushroom to share with Crystal for dinner, quick appearance and speech at the neighbourhood association AGM, Gord Neufeld parenting video workshop at the school, then a brisk beautiful dark bike ride home with a newish moon and galaxy of stars my only light. Another round of animals, and now this brief inside time before a nightcap of icecream sundae and hottub.

My family's still in Chicago for another couple of weeks, so please feel free to save me from more falaffel and pancake horrors, and the missing my family that's always on the edge like the sour behind the sweet. But overall, rest assured that there are days like this when I still remember how to indulge and enjoy this rare taste of freedom (and sometimes the taste of my own cooking).

1 comment:

  1. When the mouse doesn't cook, the cat is thankful for grandma's house & cooking!

    love you.