dear internets

There’s nothing like watching your man put the dishes away while he makes coffee and you do your seriously Sunday morning lounging.

After he cleared out, I made smoothies.

Since I was making two and my little smoothie blender has been working awfully hard just to make one lately, I used the food processor.

Ingredients: three handfuls of baby spinach, half cup of lowfat cottage cheese, half a fresh banana, half a frozen banana, milk, and frozen blueberries. Ingredients I forgot: raw oatmeal.

The food processor made the smoothie fluffy.

It was weird.

Properly fortified, we finally got around to taking down the Christmas tree. This is an ornament I made for him in 2009 (I know, you totally couldn’t tell), our first Christmas as a couple.

I know, I’m adorable.

This is my favorite of his ornaments. Even though the shininess of the adjoining ornaments made it impossible to focus on it. It came with him to Colorado from his parents house.

Instead of a star, we had a monkey abducting a nutcracker.

We’re subversive like that.

Also represented, a punching nun.

I have no explanation for this.

The tree looks so much less festive without the decorations.

Also, since it’s late January, so much more seasonally appropriate.

I think we should leave gold garland up year round.

This sap looked like diamonds to my eyes, but not to my camera.

I have photo-learning to do.

We stripped the tree, prior to taking it out the door.

At this point, we seriously considered just leaving it.

Because we’re subversive like that.

I went to my old house to pack up my bathroom (finally – also, why I have so many damn bottles of shampoo I have no idea), and came home to fortify myself with chicken stew and beer.

The stew doesn’t deserve a full recipe. It’s basically chicken thighs, kidney beans, pinto beans, crushed tomatoes, chili powder, salt, and cornmeal. Today I added more salt and a little crushed red pepper, and it’s much better, but it still needs help.

Crockett made some gaucamole for me and his brother, who is here. Crockett makes the world’s best guacamole. I may have previously mentioned that.

Then I shared my beer with a nun. This particular nun really enjoys her Newcastle – a woman after my own heart.

Sunday, man.

Tags: , , , ,

Comments are closed.