Well, everyone has them. Today I had this elaborate chili recipe, including black coffee and Dr. Pepper (I used beer) that I thought sounded really good. I worked on it this morning, carefully following the recipe, though I admit I doctored it a bit, in ways I thought would be an improvement. Somehow the house wasn't flooded with wafts of chili cooking, which I thought was strange. I let it simmer, put it in the fridge, and tasted just a bit tonight. It was bland, though it had an afterbite. I guess I'll have to "doctor" it further tomorrow--more spices, more tomato sauce, definitely more salt. Meantime for dinner I had the last half of yesterday's trout, salad, sauteed zucchini, and those delicious fresh raspberries on which I'd splurged.
This morning, so confident of my new recipe, I was lingering over the paper, coffee, and my favorite weekend breakfast--eggs soft-scrambled with diced tomato, sliced scallions, and diced smoked salmon. So good. But the TODAY show had a Superbowl cookoff--weekend host Lester Holt and one of his co-hosts had three minutes to prepare competing dishes. She prepared a dip, but I didn't pay much attention, because I was appalled by Holt's version of chili--it had kidney beans and tomato soup! He needs to come to Texas, and I emailed to tell him so. I got a standard email response that held out the possibility of a personal response, but I doubt it.
It was a beautiful day for February--in the 70s and sunny. I got my gardening stool and cut back those blasted Mexican petunias that grow everywhere. A landscape gardener put them in a few years ago when she redid my garden--and I wish she hadn't. They do have pale purple blooms that are pretty, but they pop up everywhere, and when they freeze back they look awful. I also got most of the dead leaves out of the lambs ear. I'll probably leave the rest of the clean-up to Jim Sharratt, who keeps my yard in good shape.
It's been a weekend of my own company, and I'm ready to go back to work in the morning. But I've also done some good things--finished reading the cookbook one more time and after I clear up the truth about one recipe, given me by a friend, I'll send it off. I'm plowing through that P. D. James novel, though tempted to give it up. I'm just reluctant to quit a book midway through. Next on my desk--do something about that mystery. Then I'll have to look for a new project.
A friend recently said she thought I had a bit of ADD. Astounded I asked why. "Because you rush through everything," replied she, who can happily watch paint dry. Actually, I thought my energy was one of my good points.
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