I'm turning out thing after thing today. Must be the caffeine. The jambalaya's cooked and put together for tomorrow, I just started Thursday's soup, next is dyeing the grey hair (it's getting sooooo grey!) and doing those girly chores that annoy me. Then getting to bed at a decent hour so I'm ready for the radio show scramble in the morning. I'll make tomato gravy for Friday's lasagna tomorrow night, and that'll mean enough leftovers in the fridge for Boomer Saturday. Then Wendy and her honey will be here for Sunday dinner and I'll sleep all day Monday. Woohoo!
Heading into 8 weeks of not smoking. I haven't reined in the eating yet, so this is the last week of foodfest. Then it's a serious asskicking on myself to drop what I've gained in the last weeks. And yes, I feel it, I gained it, I don't like it. Smoking crosses my mind now and then but not to a distraction. So, time to kick the food. I've been very self-indulgent and concerned with "what I like" instead of my health during the quitting. It quickly got out of hand with french fries and soda and snacks. No no no. Which is why I'm cramming cooking for everyone into this week; the regular menu around here's gonna suck in comparison starting next week and until Thanksgiving.
And I'm contemplating Thanksgiving. Will I make pate a choux and do cream puffs? Filo dough and make struedel? Just plain old pies? I have such little space here, and no place to cool things properly. I don't want soggy bottoms. Who wants soggy bottoms?
Well, while I've still got steam off I go.
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