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In fact, it was a nice day.
I was raised by people who liked to throw parties, and despite my mother's general dislike of cooking, she was a good cook, and I learned much from her. From my father (no mean slouch in the cooking department) I got my tendency to map out big meals like military campaigns, figuring out timing and what serving vessels to use and stuff like that. So I made two pies, one 20 lb turkey, mashed potatoes and yams, peas, salad, and stuffing, all ready at the appropriate time (plus the cheese and crackers and crudités that no one but me remembered to eat, before hand) and everyone ate way too much. Spouse's friend Dave (with whom he toured Europe as part of Laurie Anderson's crew in the mid-80s) who is the guy who got us to move out here, came for dinner and was much amused by the girls, who were reciprocally amused by Dave. So it was swell. We have unbelievable amounts of food left: even a quarter of the apple pie (which generally doesn't survive the night). And Dave turns out to be a demon dishwasher: such an amiable quality in a visitor!
And then, at 11pm, YG got sick. Repeatedly and floridly, necessitating the complete removal and immediate washing of all her bedclothes (and of YG herself, poor wight). I wound up sleeping in her room for most of the night. So today I'm feeling a little rung down, brung down and wrung out. But it was a nice day.
I was raised by people who liked to throw parties, and despite my mother's general dislike of cooking, she was a good cook, and I learned much from her. From my father (no mean slouch in the cooking department) I got my tendency to map out big meals like military campaigns, figuring out timing and what serving vessels to use and stuff like that. So I made two pies, one 20 lb turkey, mashed potatoes and yams, peas, salad, and stuffing, all ready at the appropriate time (plus the cheese and crackers and crudités that no one but me remembered to eat, before hand) and everyone ate way too much. Spouse's friend Dave (with whom he toured Europe as part of Laurie Anderson's crew in the mid-80s) who is the guy who got us to move out here, came for dinner and was much amused by the girls, who were reciprocally amused by Dave. So it was swell. We have unbelievable amounts of food left: even a quarter of the apple pie (which generally doesn't survive the night). And Dave turns out to be a demon dishwasher: such an amiable quality in a visitor!
And then, at 11pm, YG got sick. Repeatedly and floridly, necessitating the complete removal and immediate washing of all her bedclothes (and of YG herself, poor wight). I wound up sleeping in her room for most of the night. So today I'm feeling a little rung down, brung down and wrung out. But it was a nice day.