Well, there's the pillar, honey. Where shall we put it?
Also, I made a spectacular curry after this, and had leftovers for the next day. I browned some ground beef in a little olive oil/balsamic basil mix, threw in some sweet potatoes, zucchini, green onions, white chopped onions, shredded carrots, rosemary, cinnamon, smoked paprika, salt/pepper, coconut milk, cumin, yellow curry. Holy wow.
Hey love! That pillar is perfecto for the plant in the corner. However it poses a new puzzle of where to put the giant antique immigrant chest. Perhaps at the foot of the bed when we get the new one? Maybe under the coatrack to store outdoorsy stuff? Or maybe the chest can stay there horizontally and we can arrange the pillar on/next to it and cover it with more plants. Plant shrine!
ReplyDeleteDat curry doh. Uggggh do want. The food here in Spain is fantastic, but it still doesn't beat my first love in Indian and Thai curries. I am yearning so hard for a full meal I can eat. Almost everything here is served with delicious smelling warm bread, freshly baked that day from a local market. To see the care and craft that goes into the breads and cakes and pastries and noodles is heartwarming and heart wrenching at the same time. I opt to raise my sacrifice aloft at our tables, and thankfully, often within a few seconds the glutinous morsel is gone.
Trail food has been a must for me since breakfast is often toast and coffee. Sorry to say it babe, but here I have had the best dates in my life. They were so fresh and tender, and tasted so sweet. Their skin was a dark caramel brown with thin lines of definition running from top to bottom. And they were still clutching to the branch on which they grew! Definitely the best dates I have had. I sat on a stone bridge in Zubirri after a mountainous 23km hike through rain and hail and watched the sun set as I collected the pits one by one in a neat little pile. "Yeah you're coming with me," I whisper quietly as I slip the little sticky seeds into a bag. These dates are too good to keep to myself. In a few years time, I hope to return to see date trees growing wild along the trail.
Your descriptions are fantastic, dear. I want dates now. Siiiigh, they sound so good! To satisfy your curry cravings, I will make sure to have the makings for a good one when you return. Rest assured, I have already started to plan out things for that evening in order to properly welcome home and take care of my trail weary pilgrim. I've been working a lot, perhaps too much, it seems to take up most of my time. Though I'm glad for the weekend to be here, I'm on call today until 4am, then all day Sunday with a route in the afternoon. Why I took on so much, I myself can't understand. I take pleasure in my bike rides and blogging for you. In some way, both activities make me feel your presence more, and it's a comfort amidst the stress of the rest of the day. Yesterday, as the sun beat down on my neck, and I pedaled down to the falls, I focused on channeling my energy, willing my strength and momentum to be sent over to you. Through panting breaths I whispered words into the afternoon air, sending out into the river to be carried away. The power of the falls rattled under my feet as I stood on the bridge, and I felt the spray collecting in my hair on my arms and legs. Hair that turns red in the sunlight sits on my legs like a true Scot, and I marvel at the discovery. It's always shaved off in the summer, so I'd never noticed the color change in the season. Tomorrow is another farmers market day. I'll bike to mill city and meet up with jason there. Zach will join later at the apartment. Rick and Jolene for dinner and a bike ride in the evening. All of a sudden, I'm getting a flood of people wanting to hang out on the same day. I'd better make sure the place is clean. Amazingly, I haven't generated many dishes at all since you left. A couple bowls and accompanying forks. I haven't eaten all that much though, and what I do eat is easy. Boiled eggs. Avocado. Hummos and tomato. Thrown in a bowl with sweet chili sauce, and bam! There's lunch. And dinner. Or breakfast. Ok, I'll actually make something later. If work doesn't call. I should sleep now before call starts in a few hours. I'll try to go somewhere with internet and take the computer. Blog is in the works via notes I'd furiously sribbled in my notepad the other night. Taking in sights and sounds and letting them transform into words and phrases dancing from my pen. I must reign them in. Organize them into something coherent. But sleep now. I must rest. I dream of you often. But it's not the same, and I always wake searching the empty side of the bed with outstretched arms that turn up with nothing but blankets and pillows and the slight scent you left on them.
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