Month: December 2018

My “dry room” in the basement is now in service. I ran out of time to paint it during this holiday break, then decided nobody cares if a storage room is painted.

One of these things does not belong

In what’s  becoming an annual tradition, I went to Eataly today with friends to stock up on imported Italian food items. We each spent an exorbitant amount on our lunches by adding shaved truffles — not something I’ll do again soon, but it was educational.

We have a tradition in my office, started years ago while several of us babysat a release build on the eve of Christmas break, of office bowling. The rules are about as flexible as Calvinball, but involve a basketball and a bunch of recycle bins. And beer.

My two cooking tasks today are from opposite ends of a few scales: 1. Make a vegan version of my Spanish lentil stew for work potluck tomorrow. 2. Go outside and use a dremel, wedge, and 2-lb sledgehammer to split beef marrow bones for Tuesday’s dinner.

Let me tell you about my mother.

I made vinegar from leftover cranberry wine from Thanksgiving, and it developed a “mother of vinegar”. What, you didn’t think I meant my own mother?

I accidentally made myself the Millennium Falcon (in potato pancake form) for breakfast this morning.