These days are calling for lots of one-pot meals, my favorite kind all year round really, but one that is in regular rotation during the winter months. There’s a lot of snow, no green, and we’re ready for spring (tricky combination). But the one-pot meals prevail, and happily. It’s one thing I heartily embrace in the post-Christmas-winter-lags-on time. The snow may be a mix of grayish, slushy soot, our shoes all speckled with a circular rim of dried salt, foreheads dry, and lips chapped, but inside the smell of something bubbling away in a chicken broth remains. And thank goodness.
Valentine’s Day, these gorgeous roses showed up at the door from Steve. You should know, he is not a flowers guy so this was a huge surprise. They’re gorgeous and brightening up our first floor quite nicely. Steve, you stud you.
Now some weekend reading?
1 // This title isn’t entirely accurate. I’m not currently eating these, so “loving right now” is a stretch. Will love these, for sure, when I make them. I’ve never actually made them, however, because of the whole “refrigerate for 24+ hours.” Who has the foresight to predict a Thursday craving and thus prepare batter on a Wednesday? Anyway, this New York Times recipe is apparently the recipe.
I hosted a little Valentine’s Day kid/mom brunch the other day. 10 kids! 3 moms! Not enough (actually, none. A big oversight on my part.) mimosas! But plenty of snow outside for the kids to romp in for a bit, and then warm food once they came inside. Plus, chocolate covered strawberries for them to make.
Snow and slush and basketball games and meetings and sleep. Tonight? Tomorrow night? Sunday afternoon? Trying to shuffle through and find a time to sit at a table, just Steve and I, and have a little date before Valentine’s Day has come and gone. We managed, Sunday at 1, when the snow was picking up and adding to the six inches we already had on the ground. The brick with the icicles, the way the snow hushes everything, makes it look storybook, the quick open-close of restaurant doors so you don’t let the cold in. The tiny restaurant we chose felt extra cozy for those few hours, the heater that was right under our table kept us both warm, as did the Bloody Mary (my first) and hot coffee.
Parker signing his name on Star Wars Valentine’s for a little party at school next week. This particular card came from Target (holla) and came with tiny light sticks that you stick in each envelope. Who’s celebrating this weekend?
February is a notorious hum-drum month for me (for all), with Valentine’s Day being the only real pinnacle–and what a pinnacle it is not. I love love, I just don’t love Valentine’s Day. Hang on. That’s not entirely true.
Making: this easy pasta for dinner tonight and adding chicken and broccoli.
Drinking: Yogi bedtime tea; a nighttime ritual is nice. Does tea count as a ritual?
Reading: this book that was given to me by my friend Ryan. Trying to understand this crisis!
Wanting: this perfect shirt
Listening: I’m loving John Mayer’s “Love on the Weekend”; his voice is just so good.
Wishing: we were going someplace warm this winter!!
Loving: that my arm is working better these days; I’m not calling it a full arm yet, but it’s like half an arm. SO MUCH BETTER than it was a few weeks ago.
Feeling: like this winter isn’t half-bad since it’s already February and hasn’t been insanely cold, nor have we been covered in snow – BUT… this snow two years ago all came pretty late in the season too, so I need to be careful what I say…
Watching: This is Us. I was sort of a naysayer at first; I kept hearing it get compared to Parenthood and it was just NOT doing it for me the way Parenthood did. But, I tried again recently and it’s actually quite sweet, has great music, and the characters are getting better all the time. It’s totally giving me the life-nostalgia that Parenthood did.
This is a big departure from my typical posts. But the last few days have been a big departure from normal life, you could say. Everything’s a little helter-skelter, Bridget’s throwing herself from the sidelines into the political arena, who knows what’s next to come (literally).
Here we go.