The clouds outside are rolling by in a hurry, in hourly shifts that are alternately sunny and angry without warning. It's like wearing a mood ring over my head. (Though if I were narcissistic enough to believe my antsy irritation were truly affecting the weather, you would be well within your rights to have me committed. I'm narcissistic enough to believe a lot of things, but not that. Yet.)
And I can't intersperse my grumbling with pictures of sweet baby faces, so I'll bookmark this day with some of my recent meals, inexpertly taken with my camera. Clearly this photography business is a work in progress for me.
Risotto with fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil.
A.k.a. the recipe that used up the last of my balsamic vinegar, shattered my tiny Le Creuset pot, and started my second-largest kitchen fire.
YES, it was the recipe's fault.
Chicken casserole a la JULIE.
A.k.a. my favorite casserole of all time. She won't teach me the recipe (she says there is none, but I think she's just keeping all the goodness for herself). Deceptively simple, but richly satisfying.
Shells with pasta sauce and slices of melty fresh mozzarella, topped with slow-baked eggs.
An experiment of sorts, so easy and so tasty.
The one thing lifting my spirits today, aside from the fact that only 52 minutes remain of the work hours, is the presence of two old friends outside my cubicle window.
Mama and papa, flitting around like two birds do. They're tiny and they're up rather high, being just outside my fifth-floor window as they are. Where's Waldo and his pretty lady?
There they are.
Here's to brighter plumage tomorrow.