Listening to:
An unexpected, jilting mix of Spoon, Rufus Wainwright, The Flaming Lips, Devotchka, and The Decemberists. There's an occasional Feist or The Bird and the Bee thrown in there, too.
Sipping:
Bourbon and soda. Made with a special house-infused, citrus-vanilla bottle. It wasn't infused in my house, it got born on Bobby Avenue, where my sister and her man live. I take such pleasure in the hollow gurgle-and-glug sound of the vintage decanter.
Reading:
Cookbooks, all of my favorite ones.
Planning:
A menu. Of massive proportions. Stay tuned.
Also listening to:
The rain on the tin awning outside my back door.
Inhaling:
The metal scent of spring rain. I ask you, does it get any better than this?
Grateful for:
Alone time.
Tomorrow's being Friday -- it's a happy thing.
The heavens' watering my plants so that I don't need to bother with the bothersome garden hose for a couple of mornings.
Peanut butter. Natural, crunchy.
Attentive friends.
A whole, for-the-most-part-unbroken heart.
