They’re stealing an hour from us. Again. In the darkest part of the night.
It’s the worst part of travelling and we don’t even get to go anywhere.
So, pretty much, my weekend is ruined.
Other than that, though, the weekend is somewhat run of the mill. I’m doing the cooking thing and trying to get better at the whole “making something that meets both of our various dietary requirements *AND* tastes good at the same time” thing *WITHOUT* just saying “heck with it” and just throwing five pounds of steaks on the grill.
Though I probably will just say “heck with it” and throw five pounds of steaks on the grill. Heck. They meet both of our various dietary requirements *AND* taste good at the same time. Just grab a handful and make a spinach salad (if you’re me) or steak nachos (if you’re her) and luxuriate in how you don’t have to cook for another couple of days.
Sunday itself, we’re looking forward to travelling up to Denver to visit a friend who will be celebrating Pi Day (Observed) and we’ll be bringing, sigh, a pie. That I will not even taste. I’ll bring berries or something. I thought about baking a cobbler, you know, but it’s still the middle of Lent. Maybe next year. (Checks calendar…) Yeah. Next year.
And then to bed early on Sunday night, to try to get at least part of that hour back. But it won’t work.
So… what’s on your docket?
(Image is “Play” by Clare Briggs. Used with permission of the Briggs estate.)