I had grand plans this morning after a visit to my town's opening day Farmer's Market. Use up some chard from last week's market, add sauteed leeks from this week, make a lovely quiche with a side of lettuce salad also purchased today.
We already ate all the strawberries. I know, heavily pesticided, but so tasty!
And then somehow the day got away from me. Wrote a silly entry about ticks, just for the sheer pleasure of grossing myself out even more. Read a couple pages of a new/used medieval mystery, played some Uno with Grace, watched Samuel play with a friend all morning then take off to play with another one all afternoon.
Grace has wanted to take me on a bike ride she and her dad did last week. Down the river, up and over it, and into a lovely park on the other side. About a 10-mile ride. Nothing too strenuous.
Nothing too strenuous for Mr. Heavy-Duty Biker Dude or Miss Strongest Almost-9 Year Old Girl Ever. For me? I can hike anywhere, up and down, in any kind of weather, no problem. For miles and miles. No problem. Yes, I have a cushy bike, a wide seat that bounces up and down with every minuscule bump and nice fat tires. But I am not in biking shape. It's a long way up to cross over on the freeway. Even on the lowest possible setting I barely made it up, huffing and puffing behind Grace. Then I got to do it again on the way back. Hmmm. My bottom was absolutely numb by the time we got home.
So I crashed out on the couch, mumbled out instructions as kids came and went, hazily listened to NPR, cuddled deeper into the blanket, until reality hit. I was too tired to deal with crust, chard, leeks, lettuce. I cook from scratch every single day. Today, I don't want any of it.
And so, we are having take-and-bake pizza. Overly salty, bread-y, greasy pizza. But I don't have to dirty any dishes to make it and I don't have to do more than turn on the oven.
Maybe I'll make the quiche tomorrow.