My kitchen my not be done, but my cook top and oven are in. And it may have only been macaroni and cheese, but it was homemade macaroni and cheese. . . and it was divine!
Now excuse me, please. A cookie sheet is calling my name.
I am still avoiding my Shakespeare essay.
1 comment:
It's not exactly the same thing, but in the last year I've moved ten times. I left all my pots/pans/bowls/etc (I'm obsessed with anything Red and KitchenAid) in Doug's garage. When I went home two weeks ago for a friend's wedding, I got it all back. I find myself wanting to cook just so I can you my beloved cookware. This is my way of telling that I understand the need for domesticity.
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