c'est fin

Today my mother asked me for the 157949871659873 billionth time why I don't become a writer.
I am going to write to tell you why.
Cooking.
Today I pitted two different types of cherries, made crust and finished a beautiful pie (thank you mom-Elaine)
I don't think my hands will ever be normal colored again.

I have been caught read handed.

In between cleaning my messes,
cleaning myself
and playing with our guests' beautiful two year old Skylie
I read the first harry potter novel.
JK Rowling is magnificent.
Her language has no barrier to description or even level of reading.
I remember once again how I felt when I was ten or so, picking up this book and not allowing it to leave my fingers until I had soaked up every word.

I've been cooking a lot, and reading a lot
but not eating enough.

I stood up to get my computer and passed out.

HAH.
I wish I had a better story for that.
whimpish.

AFTER the pie, and all the inbetween non pie times
I made a three mushroom (porcini, shittake, portabella) fettucini with a herb butter sauce and (breathe here)
vegetarian bean burgers with a chipotle in adobe ketchup.
and if I told you everything that went into everything
I might go downstairs and eat it all.

Today is Brandon's hard day
well, what his sgt. termed "hard"
it all sounds hard to me.
He gets to run around up and down hills in full gear.

hmmmmmmm.
SO
I hope he comes home hungry.

I am crossing my fingers.
I'll be really sad if he decides he would rather stay on base.
Especially since I didn't see him yesterday and megan and zack are both coming home for dinner.

Meanwhile.
And I emphasize the MEAN
while,
my room is a disaster.
ish.
Small mounds of laundry lay
looking up at me.

I look back,
lay back
open my book.

THAT'S why I am not a writer.


c'est fin