I wish I had something really crackerjack to say tonight. I don't. I'm wondering how I'm even going to make it to bed, or manage to get my face washed before that, or get the dishes cleaned, or even get the remnants of tonight's dinner packed up and put away. Right now, I'm not positive that I'll ever get over the onslaught of Full by which I'm currently buried.
It was a simple meal. Sicilian pasta, one of our very favorite dishes, a puttanesca-type sauce with crushed tomatoes, zucchini cut into thick matchsticks, onion, garlic, basil and chopped Kalamata olives. The recipe calls for fettuccine, but we use penne. Served up with a side salad (just lettuce and dressing) and Texas garlic toast, it's pretty much a perfect meal.
But then we also had to eat some cake. Pineapple upside-down cake, still slightly warm. It is a rare occasion for me to get home before Austin (since we ride together almost every day), rarer still to have a couple of hours to kill while he works late. So I baked a cake. I imagine we'll save some for ourselves, and I'll present the rest to the book club girls tomorrow night, along with the requested deviled eggs and potato salad.
Right now, I guess we'd better get the food put away, before Charlie Murphy does for us (he already made off with one penne noodle). I hope everyone has pineapple-sweet dreams.