|Sophie guarding her sleeping boy|
My Saturday night sleepover guest was not really talkative. He came in from playing with a friend about 8:45 and did not say three words to me—just got in his bed and on his I-pad. Next time I looked at him, he was sound asleep. He had made me promise earlier to make the room as cold as I could so when I went to bed, I turned on the a/c. In the morning when he woke up, he complained, “Juju, it’s so cold in here.” Today he is down with a sinus infection, and even though I know rationally that a chill doesn't cause that, I'm feeling a tad guilty.
It’s been that kind of weather though, where you want a/c one minute and heat the next. I turn everything off at night but often use a little heat in the morning. Bless my super-duper heat/cooling units up at the ceiling. They are efficient and apparently low energy. Plus they’re out of the way. Yet when I have the a/c on, I can feel it blow down the hallway by the bathroom.
Today I got up ready to edit my novella. Just a few chores first. Hah! Have you ever tried to track down a bank transfer that didn’t make it, a merchandise return for which you don’t have credit, an order that has not been received? Plus just a couple of emails that I had to make—yeah, sure. That stuff can take all morning—and practically did. Plus I had last-minute things to deal with on the neighborhood newsletter before I got it off to the designer. Finally did edit one chapter of the novella, but odds and ends still hang heavy on my desk—a return with the wrong tracking number, another pair of shoes I need to return. Tomorrow is another day.
Food on my mind: last night, Christian made miso chicken. As I’ve written before, I’m fascinated by miso, especially since I had some wonderful miso salmon at a local restaurant. Christian’s chicken was delicious, though he confessed that it was swimming in butter. I fixed an orzo side dish with directions from a friend who is a chef—but I deviated. My grocery shoppers didn’t find crème fraiche and my attempt at homemade failed. So at the suggestion of my chef/friend I tried cream cheese—worked like a charm. I left the artichoke hearts out of the original dish because Christian really doesn’t like them, but I included the chiffonier spinach. And the feta. I thought it was good, but today for lunch I added more feta—and it went from good to great.
Now Christian wants to grill salmon with miso. I’ve found two recipes for him to consider.
Saturday night I had fixed myself some creamed chicken on toast—some will turn their nose up at that, but I like it. Toast however gets kind of tough and hard to cut. Tonight I put it over a medium-sized boiled potato—really good. I just make a cream sauce of butter and flour. Add milk and wine to get it to the right thickness; dump in chopped scallions, frozen green peas, and diced leftover chicken. Season with salt and pepper. Can’t beat it.
Tomorrow is another day to track down those missing shoes I returned and edit the last chapter of the novella. Who am I fooling? Edit, as in totally rewrite.