Rolled onto the plate

I’m going in an odd beat direction for a Mother’s Day post. I lack the time to do the one in my head justice. On the other hand this one kind of rolled into being tonight.

Friday’s Finest

Pizza night usually equals Friday night family & friends time. The kitchen is full of noise, toppings and hands reaching for this and that. The beer flows and, if we are lucky, supper is eaten on the patio.

That kind of night seems like a very old memory. I know, I know, it’s only been 14 months. Life will resume but it won’t be this summer. So I decided I needed to lighten my mood and post something that isn’t introspect and morose depressing grumpy. It falls in line with a new fun blogging challenge called “what’s on your plate”. No categories and no real rules; just bloggers connecting during this eat alone at home time.

Puzzle Nixed

I nixed the puzzle on the dining room table in favour of having room for a sit down family supper tomorrow. It’s hard to imagine but our last family meal was on the shared birthdays a year ago on February 28.

Refueling

Today’s advent activity started early this am, although not on purpose.

Loafing Around

I wasn’t entirely sure where (more correctly who) I was slanting this advent activity towards when I started baking. I saw a reciepe, had the ingredients and went for it.

Who knew

Well who knew that this would end up being so blinking complex! Seemed like a simple enough advent activity and a treat for ourselves.

Mad chaos of 2020

There has been a ton of mad chaos to 2020, one for the history books for sure. We are lucky in our household to have escaped most of that until today. Today chaos seemed to reign supreme.

No tea party

I set out for some baking therapy with the added goal of participating in the #virtualteaparty2020. Seemed like a win win; baking and an uplifting blog post but…

“Cacciatore”

He zigged and then, at the last second, he zagged. That was his undoing. Like literally.

Ok – full disclosure up front. Don’t read any further if you have a squeamish stomach because it’s a bit graphic from here on in. Don’t make me say I told you so at the end!

By the God Yeezys

My mother couldn’t cook when she got married. Rather an odd state of affairs in the 50’s but there you have it. The long story about why can be found here in the Legacy of May Honey post. Stories abound in the older cousins about the things my mom made that didn’t turn out.