One nice perk about actually getting out of the house for yoga (although it applies far more in the winter) is that since you’re taking a fleece blanket with you anyway (or you are if you’re me), you get to sit on it in the freezing cold car, and be pleasantly toasty right from the get-go.
Another, of course, is that you feel proud of yourself and possibly slightly gloaty (again, if you’re me) afterwards for having made it out at all. And what does that mean? Why, cookies when you get home, of course!
Given a week in the absence of their spouse, boys will (seemingly) subsist on frozen foods, easily-prepared meatstuffs (e.g. chicken breast) or popcorn.
Girls, however, will use the opportunity to clear out the fridge, occasionally resulting in new and… diverse meal pairings. (Case in point: Monday night was “breakfast for dinner”, consisting of bacon, spaghetti-squash-potato latkes (delicious, btw), baby carrots, and frozen peas. I had been intending on toast and eggs as well until I realized I’d made rather more latkes than intended.)
My thermos is fantastic, able to keep hot chocolate hot well past the 24-hour mark. On a related note, starting off a work morning with home-made hot chocolate is fantastic. It would be more fantastic, however, if the next time I made hot chocolate with dried chilis (highly recommended), I took the time to sieve out the chili fragments and seeds before hastily sloshing it into the thermos.
There is a distinct comfort that comes of knowing you’ve got a bowl of bread dough slowly working its flavourful magic in the fridge. Well, there is also an element of faith in there, but nonetheless.
There is a possibility that the dough in the fridge is slowly hardening into a bitter lump of inedible disappointment, but that’s unlikely, even for me.
…alright, enough with the miscellaneous food thoughts, already.
It’s nice to feel that life is coming into a sort of balance again; I’d been feeling off-kilter since mid-December. What’s that? So had the rest of North America, it’s called the holiday season? I guess. If that’s the case though, I think everyone else has a slightly faster recovery rate than I do.
Still, better late than never, and I’m still in time for the new year. Look out Tiger, I’m sure-footed!
p.s. added after the fact.
I ran spellcheck and had WordPress come back to tell me (with fancy blue underlining) that “better late than never” is clichéd and am I sure I want to say that? Wow, WordPress. How about you dial back the judgement and just let me throw my scatterbrained thoughts to the webby winds, eh? (Yeah, that’s right. Go ahead and blue-underline that prosey gem: I dare you.)