The forecast is looking damn near perfect for Ragnar this weekend, and I'm starting to plan my clothing/packing so I'm not doing it at the last possible second on Wednesday. My current debate is whether or not to bring my sleeping bag. It's small, and it'll be chilly at night, but I don't know if I really want to waste the bag space. I'm debating bringing a bigger bag this trip, but I must admit I get a charge out of packing really small for these things.
Our fridge is getting quite full of leftovers, so it's time to go through and see what's left. It's probably not as much as I think, but there's lots of containers!
Midnight dinner was leftover Beef and Bacon Cottage Pie. Even better after a day or two.
3am was more peaches and raspberries. Such a great combo, and I'm enjoying the shit out of it before the peaches turn to cardboard at the end of the season and the raspberries go back up to $20/pint. No picture, because my computer ate it, but you've seen it before.
I switched from coffee to tea after 3am, and had my cashews and dates as a little snack around 6am as I was planning to eat breakfast with the offspring.
Sticks to your ribs.
When I tucked the boys into bed on Saturday night we discussed having pancakes for breakfast and that they were not to pester the sitter for cereal (we had a sitter come to sleep on the couch so hubs could leave early for his race). They agreed and were happy about pancakes. They should be happy. I make that shit from scratch. No Bisquick in this house.
When I got home this morning, one of my lovely sons decided it was appropriate to beg for cereal and cry because he "doesn't even like pancakes". This is a child who will eat eight pancakes in a sitting. I told him that was total horseshit and if he didn't want pancakes he was welcome to starve, because I am a great parent. Ultimately he mashed a bunch of pancakes and applesauce into his face and forgot all about cereal, but I wish that once, just once I could start my fucking day without one of my utterly privileged crotchfruit whining about some goddamn perceived persecution. It really puts me in a bad frame of mind. At least one of them thanked me for breakfast (he's my favorite).
Since I had the griddle out, I threw together some banana pancakes for myself. I had them with blackberries and a carefully measured tablespoonful of real maple syrup.
No bacon because it was partially frozen. Sadness abounds.
Then I went to sleep. It was a good sleep. I may have watched strategic parts of Saturday's episode of Outlander to encourage good dreams. The best part of watching this show is that the male protagonist is played by a 34 year old actor (Sam Heughan-go forth and Google), so I don't have to feel guilty about wanting to do things to him. Back when Twilight was a thing, I always felt a little "Mrs. Robinson" about admiring Taylor Lautner's shirtless form. Not that I wanted to do things to TL-he's not my general type (and is a CHILD you fucking pervert), but he did have really nice abs.
So for dinner I had Citrus Carnitas and mashed squash. Was that an excellent segue or what?
My calves are totally cramped up today and I have no idea why. It's kind of pissing me off. I need to foam roll in the morning, then try to catch some sleep before heading off to the box to make up Lurong 2. I'll be cleaning out the fridge in the afternoon and looking for inspiration on what to feed the spawn. I was going to make myself some salmon, but I might opt for bacon wrapped scallops instead. That pairs well with broccoli, and I have some I need to steam up and eat.
That's all I've got.
Here is a gratuitous shot of Sam Heughan.