Joe had an old friend in town who is also a chef, which worked out well since I had planned a dinner party for last night. I wish I had thought to take pictures of the chaos these two make in the kitchen. Results are always astoundingly delicious, considering the amount they drink while cooking. We shopped yesterday morning and they planned the menu as they wandered through the store (butternut squash soup with parmesan croutons; salad with pecans, dried cherries, and pomegranate vinaigrette; osso bucco on wild mushroom risotto with roasted root vegetables) and as the afternoon ticked away I looked up from my game to see both boys on their individual laptops rather than in the kitchen. I asked if there was any prep I could help with and they seemed unconcerned. At 4:00 (for a 7pm dinner) Joe asked me to strain the juice from a pomegranate, after which I left to go shopping with an early dinner guest. We returned to find the guys typically running around the kitchen mixing this with that and dirtying every dish in the house. I did a load after load of dishes, watched with envy as our guests were served martinis with my favorite gin (Bluecoat, from Pennsylvania, if you're a gin fan), and then ate my face off before doing yet more dishes and driving our guests to the metro around midnight. Then returned home to the drunk chefs cracking a beer and shooing me off to bed before cleaning the rest of the kitchen themselves.
I went to in-person-absentee vote yesterday and was told there was a 1.5 hour wait. I can't stand that long without feeling like I'm going to pass out, so am going back to my usual election day strategy of arriving just before the polls open at 6. Joe isn't thrilled, but said maybe if I'm quick we can go get breakfast before work on Tuesday. Mmm breakfast.
Speaking of which, I just made and indulged in a huge stack of pancakes while watching the news and enjoying some coffee. My cat is sleeping next to me on my blanket and Joe woke up long enough to take something for his hangover before crawling back off to bed. God I love Sundays.
T-3 hours til football.
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