In a way, when I woke up this am and only saw rain, I was a bit disappointed. Those weathermen and women were revving us up and maybe further north it was accurate. Not here. It's over 40 degrees too, that's F not C. My plans to go nowhere do nothing are still intact but it doesn't feel the same when you could get out and just don't.
I have no plans at all for the day. Chicken pie perhaps or some kind of bean soup would be in order. I have all the makings and my husband will be on the road so the kitchen is mine. He has ramped up to cook of the house and although I know this too shall pass, at the moment, when he's home it is impossible to be in the kitchen at the same time with him. He thinks I am the sous chef, you know, one of the minions who chop and saute and bow and scrape when the Iron Chef barks a command. I truly think he has a video camera planted around here somewhere and he records it all to play back at his leisure, admiring his deft knife skills, the economy of movement, the genius of spice interaction, blah blah blah. But today. The kitchen? She is mine! Ha! Ha! She laughs in triumph.
But first I must make the coffee and prepare breakfast for the master. Yes. He sits back during the morning and midday meal and allows the kitchen wench to perform. You know it's a good thing I love him and find him to be cute as a button. He's also a good cook and way better than yours truly. Mostly. He loves to cook for crowds and that all by itself makes him great to have around. If he ever reads this I will be demoted from sous chef to scullery maid. Love ya hon.
Well....gotta go and enjoy my freedom while I have it.