Potpourri

On more than one occasion over the last two weeks (the most obvious being this weekend, of course) I've had reason to think to myself that life is sweet and fragile and, no matter how much you're hurting, how much your life can change in the blink of an eye, life does go on.  And so it should be.

So much to do in the kitchen these days...most days I'm up by 5 am making bread and I go straight in after work for preserving the veggies from the garden and the fruits gifted to me by all the thoughtful people in my life.  I love my people.

So many tomatoes!  Pizza sauce and pasta sauce.  I really need to figure out the pickles.  I need more hours in the day.  Still on the list:  spiced pear preserves and pickling some of these cucumbers. 

I wish you were here so you could smell this cooking.  It smelled so yummy and savory while it cooked up and simmered there.  Looking at the stove, I also wish, while you were standing here enjoying the aroma, that you were holding a sponge.

A perfect dinner for our lovely three-day weekend that just passed.  The weather was so glorious, all weekend!  (this is the recipe, seriously, no amounts, just do it!)  Chopped romas (and plenty of them!) fresh from the garden and still warm by the sun; basil, fresh from the garden (and lots of it!); minced garlic mixed in; and then covered in some olive oil, salt, and pepper.  Let it sit, covered, to stew in its own glory.  I let it sit all day while I went to work on Friday!  Then I came home and cooked up some sweet sausage and boiled some spaghetti noodles and I don't mind telling you...it was heavenly.  So simple, so fresh, so YUMMY.  Fresh, homemade bread didn't hurt.

In between The Kitchen Chronicles, Erik and I took the boys to the park to ride bikes and eat ice cream (I'm a fan.  Particularly novelty ice creams.  Never met one I didn't want to eat.  Just saying.)  and I gave blood.  More blood!  I just did apheresis two weeks ago, and Erik said I was crazy, but they called twice asking for whole blood and it seemed like they really wanted me to go.  I thought there must have been a run on blood, but they said, not really, it's just a busy time for accidents and lots of donors are on vacation, so, you know, they need you.  You should donate.  I got a t-shirt!  Which is probably the least they could do, considering I just found out that the hospitals will pay $600 a pint for my ultra-rare blood type.  I'm not looking to eliminate the middle man, but I did wonder for a second if I could turn this into some sort of cottage industry for extra cash.  Is that wrong?

Thank you SO MUCH for your kind words these days.   <3  <3