I've been cooking all day and I feel like a fishwife. Actually I feel pretty awesome, if a little beat, because I made a pad thai that kicked some serious ass. I also made a portuguese bread that came out a bit crusty...I don't think I put enough water in the extra pan...but is still pretty good if you pretend it was supposed to be rustic italian. I also made up Matt's monthly cinnamon bread batch and some vanilla cupcakes with chocolate frosting. The cupcakes are the only thing I'm completely unsatisfied with. I've been looking for a vanilla cake recipe since time immemorial and I hate them all. Whenever I find a new one I'm filled with the promise of light and buttery flavorfulness and I'm always disappointed. The ones I have on my counter now are very dense in a not good way and pretty tasteless. God help me the only ones I like come out of a box. I'm deeply shamed. The frosting is good though.
I'm feeling that last day of the weekend thing that happens the night before a busy week. I have to work tomorrow and monday and tuesday and so on and Matt forgot and signed himself up to do a big job today, which means the only time we've spent together are the stolen moments while puppy is outside peeing. We'll have more time together when the garden is roto-tilled and the plants have to go in, special couples time with groaning and sweating but sadly no orgasms.
These would be the plants I bought at the store and not the ones we grew from seed, and also a ton of potato seed we got with our trees. My co-worker recently asked how the farming was going and I said "if this were little house on the prairie there wouldn't be a sequel" but that's not strictly true because if there's one thing you can grow in Maine it's potatoes. If all else fails we can practice making vodka and we won't care that we starve to death. Shot glass half full.