snow days

I’ve been waiting for the right meal, the right company, the right story.  I’ll start here:

We’ve had three snow days now–although the snow is mostly ice and not picturesque, and I had to drag myself to work today.  We’re a little stir crazy.  Outside, it’s bitter and slick.  Inside, we’re watching too much TV and taking turns with baby and laptop.  The recognition that, after two months back at work, entertaining my son is more tiring than I remember, stings.  I kiss his face, and his pink cheeks undo me. 

I’ve been itching to cook, but have been cut off by a frozen pipe and a husband who (understandably) doesn’t want to wash any more pots and pans in the bathroom sink.  Quite frustrating, when all I want to do in this weather is hole up and bake cookies.  We did manage slow cooker chicken cassoulet yesterday, which was pleasant, if not memorable, and Monday, before all of this hit, I tried a lovely new salmon recipe with coconut and lemongrass.  But tonight, with the cold outside and the (false) hope of a new episode of the Office, I couldn’t be bothered to heat up our considerable leftovers.  So we ate Oak Cliff Pizza and cheese bread, delivered by a very nice man who, thankfully, did not slip on our un-shoveled sidewalk.  Real Food, it was not, but every bite was just right.  The cheese was bubbly, the crust was crisp and hot, the company was ideal.  And then, after the little one was asleep, I started writing.


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