January 20, 2011
the best time of the day
But today, 4:10. Because Mr came home early, and he had stuff with him. Mr coming home early is treat enough...and not just because by then I really need another set of arms, especially these days. Also not just because Jr has decided that he's mad at my right boob, and I'm perplexed about it and want someone to wonder about it with me. No, when Mr comes home early it means kitchen time. I've written about this phenomenon before, and it is truly one of the delights of my life.
Today, the soundtrack was my iPod on random, which gave us such gems as Hallelujah (the Rufus Wainwright edition), Bohemian Rhapsody (more Queen), and A-Punk (Vampire Weekend - thank you, Guitar Hero). Mr and Miss were playing yet another understandable-only-to-them game, which involved the oven mitts and lots of squealing on her part. Jr was watching it all from his little chair.
But this is not what I want to write about. I want to write about the stuff. Because it is yet another example of how awesome Mr is.
This is what he showed up with:
Now, I forgive you if this means next to nothing to you (or your husband, if that's the case). Because what makes this special is that I have not mentioned this book once, and yet have been coveting it mightily for a few months. This is A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table, by Molly Wizenberg.
Of Spilled Milk?
Don't worry, I don't pay much attention to myself either. But apparently Mr does, because as he was checking out at the store he went to for an entirely different reason, he spotted this in a random bin, thought Molly's name looked familiar, checked out the (very small) print that mentioned Orangette, and bought it for me.
Bless his dear heart, how I love him.