It was dark by 5 p.m., and it took any energy I had to pack up the crock-potted garlic pork for a Sunday dinner (with Harry Potter) in Milford with my twin, Pam, and her daughter (a niece?), Kaitlyn. I didn't take advantage of daylight savings and I was up by 7 a.m., as usual. I simply put myself to work to put together a special presentation for today, two presentations for graduate courses on Tuesday, and more chiseled work on NCTE presentations coming in St. Louis in a week.
I have to admit, too, that my heat kicked on last night. I tried to resist, but it had a mind of its own. I guess it's the season.
But back to food. Pam mashed white potatoes with sweet potatoes and they were delicious with the garlic pork. I forget the name of the bean and green concoction that was served on a good cheese bread, but it went perfectly with the rest of the meal (and was followed with fresh chocolate chip cookies and vanilla bean ice-cream. Jake, as always, was a super model dog and, as par for the course, spent a large portion of the evening on my lap trying to get his wet-eel tongue in my inner ear.
This time last year, it was a Sunday night ritual to embark to Monroe with Chitunga for a Sunday dinner (and NFL games), but a lot has changed in 365 days...Pam settling into her beach condo and me getting used to a quiet house.
I'm holding my breath for the next few weeks, just hoping to get through it all with grace. In the meantime, it's great to say grace with friends on a Sunday night. My stomach is thrilled by the tradition.
I have to admit, too, that my heat kicked on last night. I tried to resist, but it had a mind of its own. I guess it's the season.
But back to food. Pam mashed white potatoes with sweet potatoes and they were delicious with the garlic pork. I forget the name of the bean and green concoction that was served on a good cheese bread, but it went perfectly with the rest of the meal (and was followed with fresh chocolate chip cookies and vanilla bean ice-cream. Jake, as always, was a super model dog and, as par for the course, spent a large portion of the evening on my lap trying to get his wet-eel tongue in my inner ear.
This time last year, it was a Sunday night ritual to embark to Monroe with Chitunga for a Sunday dinner (and NFL games), but a lot has changed in 365 days...Pam settling into her beach condo and me getting used to a quiet house.
I'm holding my breath for the next few weeks, just hoping to get through it all with grace. In the meantime, it's great to say grace with friends on a Sunday night. My stomach is thrilled by the tradition.
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