on writing, and a recipe club
I’m writing out the rest of the Xmas cards. Does that count as fiction writing? I sure hope so. I’d like to think of something clever to say here, but I am just beat to hell tired. Damn holidays. Damn pressure. On a bright note, I cooked dinner tonight for the first time in… weeks. Months? Hard to say.
Hockey God: “Cooking a pot of beans and a pot of rice does not count as ‘cooking,’ per se.”
me: “Yes, it does.”
Hockey God: “But you didn’t do anything with them.”
me: “So?”
We had Tomato/Sweet Potato Soup that I made in the world-famous Rival Crockpot. (Thanks to my sis for the best Christmas present ever — still going strong, a year later.) I’ll list the ingredients, you put ‘em together:
onions
garlic
celery
carrots
sweet potato cubes
tomatoes
vegetable broth
fresh rosemary
sage
salt n pepper
Yes, I made up this recipe myself, Suzy Homemaker that I am. It cooked on high for three hours and was just delicious. Would have been nice with white beans, too, or some smoked turkey.
Also, biscuits… and… vanilla cream pie with a graham cracker crust for dessert. Homemade, for both.
(Told you — brain donor.)
‘night,
WM