Happy Saturday, ya'll. I don't know what you have planned today, but mine has been nice and quiet--a skillet burrito for breakfast, a small errand to make me feel productive, and a day spent with my book and laptop. Just the way I like my Saturdays, really. I'm going to make a potato and thyme pizza for dinner; I hope it goes well. I'm trying to use up a bunch of nearly-done produce in one go--tomatoes, mushrooms, potatoes, peppers--and what better way than throwing everything onto a pizza? It's either that or a quiche, right? I don't have mozzarella cheese, though, just gruyere. I know that could really mean pizza FAIL, but I'm going for it. Unless of course somebody leaves a comment in the next hour saying 'WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T USE GRUYERE! GO GET THE MOZZARELLA!' But man, that would mean I have to run another small errand, and that's not what Saturdays are about.
I've got another picture of my niece for you. I can't stop loving her face. Whenever I see her I have to take four thousand photos and she always humors me for the first two thousand and then the hand starts to flappin'. In her defense, I do get right up in there, and I * can * go for hours. Peypey, my other little niece, has equally-lovely leanings, but her two-year-old-perpetual-movement means I rarely get a usable photo. I get a pigtail, or a heel. This is why if you were to look through my photo archives, you'd see about a 6-to-1 Hunter : Peyton ratio. I don't mind, though; I'm sure once Peyton gets to an age at which I can tie her up, we'll even it out.
But Peyton--should you ever read this blog in the future--let it be said--from one second child to another--that there aren't fewer pictures of you because you're number two; there are fewer pictures of you because you're FAST. Unlike me, so wholly underappreciated...
* dramatic sigh for my therapist *
* dramatic sigh for my therapist *
Oops, still here. Forgive.
My niece, with a flourish:
I KNOW. Like my sister, gone Hollywood.
Peypey stood still only this long because her sister was doing some sort of acrobatics on the swing set behind me. Then she was off to try her sister's tricks herself, despite her diminutive size. I wouldn't be at all surprised to see her become a cheerleader in a few years...
Now that I think about it, they're both like my sister.
And on another note, look at how my apple and red chili jelly from last week turned out! Isn't it beautiful??
Thank you, Marie, for the best recipe ever! It's ridiculously tasty. And so versatile! It can be thrown in with pork for a sweet/spicy kick, dolloped over a log of goat cheese as a snack or appetizer, smeared onto a slab of crusty bread--or let's be honest, just eaten by the spoonful...
Speaking of goat's cheese--I'm reminded of a funny conversation I had with my SF-roommate, a professional chef (and discovered hater of goat's cheese). A friend had emailed looking for goat cheese recipes, and forgetting my roommate's aversion to the monster, I went to her for ideas:
Me: Hey! What would you do if you had a bunch of goat's cheese?
Sara: Throw it in the TRASH because it tastes like GARBAGE.
I nearly cried from laughing. I always hear her voice in my head when I shop for goat's cheese now: 'Throw that in the TRASH, because it tastes like GARBAGE.' It's just too GOOD!
Speaking of too good, check out the identity crisis London suffers every day: neither sunny nor cloudy, just dramatically poised in between.
I must be off now, big hugs!