Mondays hit harder than a hangover. In our home, we sleep later during the week than on the weekends. For good reason: we like to maximize our time together.
Last week witnessed the purchase of a new car to replace my Camry, which was totaled following a three year battle with a leaking trunk. I was more happy that I would get the coveted carport spot, than actually driving the car itself. That excitement alone belongs to Chris.
We also ate with Tex and L. on two occasions. The first night, we ate a late supper chez Mary/Chris that was more of a collaboration. Pork loin on the grill served with coconut rice and sauteed soy broccoli. Later in the week, we dined chez L./Tex and devoured plates of baked goat cheese salads, pan-sauteed halibut topped with a simple, but summery, tomato relish, and Chris' coconut rice.* I contributed the remains of peaches and raspberries, which I fashioned into a cobbler.
By Saturday, our stomachs full, we set out to work on the bathroom. With the tiling finished, Chris and his dad rebuilt the toilet (a fairly disgusting task that occurred while his mom and I fixed lunch.) On Sunday, I removed the existing bathroom fixtures and commenced to scoff at the layers of wall paper beneath that wreaked of 1960. I would have pressed on but I was weirdly unmotivated and decided to nap.
*The one dish I've washed my hands of as a cook is rice. It was one of things Chris made for me on our first date. Although it was a little mushy because I was late, since then, he's proved to be the official Rice Cooker in the house.
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