Today I went shopping and picked up a bar of that sandlewood soap I talked about earlier. It is still made and marketed with the same wrapper after all these years. I restrained myself from smelling it until I got home and unpacked the bag. Took me back to being 15 and doing anything I could think of to drive my mother (more) insane.
At home, I cleaned the kitchen, did dishes, spiced and trimmed a brisket which I put in the fridge to soak overnight and will put in the oven to roast all day tomorrow while I am at work, cleaned the grill, dirtied it making hamburgers and then cleaned it again, packed my lunch for tomorrow, had a delightful supper with the black dog who finally agreed to eat the dry food in his bowl after he realized that no I was NOT going to give him anything scrumptious like, oh, say, human food, and topped off my meal with a big bowl of Splenda NOT sugar chocolate yummy ice cream which I allowed to halfway melt in the bowl to the consistancy of really thick pudding before eating. I am become domesticated.
Back to work tomorrow. Oh. Boy. !.Labels: cooking, personal urban drama |
