Remind me never to go shopping on Super Bowl Sunday again. Unless I wish to join in the Great American Surge for the snack isle; you know, be part of something much, much bigger than myself.
It was a mad house, a great writhing mass of beleaguered shoppers in pursuit of salty snacks, their carts jammed, hopelessly entangled, looking about with bewildered eyes, wondering, no doubt, how they got there and how on earth they will ever get out.
I, cartless, wound my sinuous way through, snagged a bag of corn chips without stopping and popped out of the isle at the other end, not much the worse for wear. I did have to abandon the gallon of milk; there was just no going back for anything, there was no head way possible against that current.
We were pretty excited at home too; it was the first time in years that Keith has been in America for the Super Bowl and was still expecting to see marching bands play during half time.
What a rockin' bunch of old guys The Who are! I thought it was cute but I was a little worried the guitarist would have a heart attack on stage. If he had, at least he would have gone doing something he clearly loved.
Keith made a pizza for the occasion. There was some ricotta cheese left over from the mid week lasagna I'd made, and he was inspired to put a layer of this cheese over the crust before adding the sauce.
I was dubious. He also decided to broil the pizza for a few moments after putting the pizza in the oven before it was properly pre heated. Horrors.
It's just a pizza, Jenny, I had to tell myself. What's more important; letting him be happy or nagging him to death over a food item?
If he comes in the kitchen when I'm cooking, that's a different story. He fiddles with the burners, eats stuff out of the pot when my back is turned and adds stuff over my shoulder.
I have to chase him away with a dish towel.
The pizza turned out remarkably delicious and filling.
Today my mission is deep clean the kitchen, which is looking a little scuzzy around the corners, put away the scraps from the pillow case adventure and prepare for John Deere curtains. I have four yards of material, a working pair of scissors and a fair amount of optimism. We'll see what happens.
