morning work

From where I sit I can see my son’s feet in slumber. The tinny sounds of The Decemberists clatter from where Sophie rests on the couch, waiting for her oatmeal. I’ve got a cup of coffee: good coffee, for a change. Today was payday so last night we went to the store and got groceries – yay!

Nine cups of flour; 4 teaspoons of yeast await me on my kitchen table. The kids will be helping me make pita for our party tonight. I’m going to wash and air-dry the bedding, mop the kitchen floor, clean out the cooler, and wash some windows. Maybe even (beg) ask Ralph to take out to La Salvadorena for lunch before returning to cook the potatoes.

Phone calls trickle in: Can I drop off a salad in your fridge early? Is tabbouleh OK to bring? Can I show up late?

The weather looks good and last night’s launch of the firepit went well. I think my dad is even going to come tonight and hopefully with his creature (the “dog”).

Off to mix and knead pita dough.

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