The sun just came out for the first time today. I've been having a lazy morning when I should have been having a productive one, but I'm having a hard time feeling too guilty about it. Tonight I have to buckle down and write, because (tah-dah!) I've been working on a cookbook to give to friends and loved ones for Valentine's Day. (Or, given the odds that I won't get things mailed out until after that, February.) My big goal for tonight it to finish the text so that I can buy paper tomorrow and break out with my gluestick. If you want a copy and you don't think I have it, email your address to me ASAP.
My other big goal is to give those damned potato-soy chorizo pastries one last shot in hopes that they can still be added to the finished book. The new gameplan involves pre-cooking the potatoes and adding slightly more chorizo to the mix. Wish me luck.
I had a fantastic weekend, full of good people and good food and interesting conversations and various other things. The flower shop will begin the V-Day buildup soon, which I'm both looking forward to and dreading. Nothing gigantic has been happening, but I've been deriving an unusual amount of pleasure from small things: sunlight, plants, a good beer, the scent of cinnamon, a kiss on the back of the neck. I feel a camaraderie with the world that has been lightening my steps in the cold dark month, which is helped along by the fact that it hasn't honestly been that cold or dark lately. Life is good sometimes.