It feels like forever since I’ve typed those seven words, doesn’t it? Don’t get me wrong–I loved the Tobago break and the Christmas fun back at the family homestead, but it’s great to be back in my home and in the swing of things.
As per my New Year’s Resolution Number 11, I decided to be chill about the kind of timekeeping and errands that don’t warrant clock-watching stress, so instead of beating myself up for not getting to the market by nine this morning I lingered over a mini breakfast of Honey Bunnies dipped in strawberry jam and soy milk:
Since it’s scientifically impossible to get stressed after dipping bunnies in jam and chomping their heads off, I sauntered my c hill self to the market in a wonderful mood and had a great time catching up with all the lovely vendors and stocking up on goodies for the week’s foodings, which will be:
- Korean bibimbap (rice with veggie fixings, Korean dressing, egg, and seasoned sliced beef)
- African peanut stew with sweet potatoes, eggplant, and chickpeas
- Pita pizzas (probably eggplant and ham) with bean soup (not sure which kind yet, but I have plenty of fixings for this so i’ll play it by ear)
- Veggie pad thai
- Leftover pastelles and stewed pigeon peas
And, as per New Year’s Resolution Number 8, there’s not one, but TWO new recipes on the menu. I’m sure the bibimbap will be easy enough (it just involves cooking rice, mixing up a dressing, and sauteeing some vegetables, and I can’t wait to try the African peanut stew, which comes from the delectable The Tropical Vegan Kitchen that I bought after Christmas; I used to make an African peanut stew with mushrooms and tofu, but the seasonings for this are a bit different and brighter than the other one, which felt much more like a winter dish.
After the market, I did my best Little Mermaid impression at the pool, where I threw down thirty laps and tried to stop myself from kicking at the knees (hence the Little Mermaid comparison–I look NOWHERE near as graceful as Ariel in the water), showered up, and ate breakfast number two, which was more like the real thing:
The Christmas season is over, but my love affair with pumpkin and pumpkin-spiced pancakes isn’t (and it shouldn’t be–it’s pumpkin season all year long here in Trinidad). I ate my four (of the twenty-four I made for freezing) with silky bananas and a touch of liquid gold (aka maple syrup). After I was done dotting my pancakes with the syrup, Mr. Man proceeded to pour the stuff liberally over his pancakes, and I had to stop myself from taking the bottle away and smacking him over the head with it (I gasped loudly, as it were). What is he thinking??? Precious stuff, that sysrup! Hmph.
Once I recovered from what could have been a domestic incident, I donned my Sunday finest:
Or not. The top is from Old Navy, the skirt from H and M, and in case you need confirmation, yes, those are boots that you are seeing–Sundays from now until Carnival have officially been proclaimed Break In The Carnival Boots Day in this house. The boots were a star purchase from Charlotte Russe in Buffalo and cost an incredibly reasonable $25. To be honest, I don’t think they need any breaking in, as they are very soft and thin faux suede, have a very comfortable and flexible bottom, and have no heel to speak of. They are also plenty roomy even with fat socks underneath, which means my toes will not be smushed, even with socks and arch insoles inside on Carnival. Once I’m convinced I’ve broken them in enough, I’ll be spray-painting and blinging them to match my outfit, at which point they’ll be so fabulous y’all will be withering in jealousy and shoe lust (ok, not quite, but they WILL be hotness).
Thus attired like a maniac, my Sunday afternoon consisted of a productive tidying of the green “guest room” (my preferred chaos spot), laundry, some phone and skype catch-up calls, and a bit of decoration to make me smile every time I open my closet, should the blaring brights of my wardrobe not do the trick:
My three 5K race numbers are now proudly displayed as a daily reminder of how far the nerd with two left feet has come. Never in my days did I think I’d have race numbers, and my first three mean the world to me, each for a different reason, and I’d rather see them every day in this way because it reminds me that I’m a little fashionista AND a runner, too. Sniff sniff, these things make me more emotional than is dignified, so I’m stopping now.
My delightful, relaxed yet productive Sunday also featured corn soup from the Chomping Shop and an old favorite, portobello mushroom sandwiches with chipotle mayo:
As I’m waiting for suggestions for the carnival fete dress, no sewing will take place tonight and I plan on ending my Sunday (and the eve of my birthday I’m-Not-Counting-Anymore) with a Six Feet Under season six lovefest (or rather, two episodes), curled up on my couch kinda like so:
Except more lady-like.