Worth all those Saturdays

Worth all those Saturdays

Tonigh night I was fried. I went out the last two nights, and while it was so much fun last night carving pumpkins with the kids (thanks Dad for that perennially-scary pumpkin face you taught me when I was little) well, the grownups overindulged just a tiny bit, and then today was crazy at work. By seven, I was rattling around trying to figure out what to eat for dinner. I wasn’t that hungry, but I wanted something other than cheese and crackers.

And that’s when the antelope bolongese that I put up with the terrifying pressure canner came in — sauce, meet noodles. Ten minutes and it was dinner. I did have to take a flashlight to find the parsley in the garden, but pasta, sauce, parmesan, parsely. Dinner. Everything from someplace I understand. Good clean food at the end of a long day. Who could ask for more?

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