I was invited to my mom's house up the road for supper last night.
I eagerly accepted the invitation as I had planned on eating tuna with rice for dinner. I mean, I probably would have mixed the tuna with mayo and added some hot peppers and made some sort of slacker's spicy tuna hand roll - but nonetheless: nothing beats mom's cooking.
She made a cottage pie. She called it, "Shepherd's pie" but I'm a snob like that and like I told her, " shepherds don't heard cows" . It was good. It had peas in it and I'm not allowed peas so I got heartburn after.
I had brought dessert: a lemon lime custard pie. I'm not supposed to eat sugar. I asked Mom if she knew what "yolo" meant. She did.
I'm not supposed to drink alcohol but I had some Glenfiddich with Mom while we played scrabble. She won by 20 points (a score of 282 for your nerds out there).
I've been up since 5:30. There was no sunrise; it just got greyer then bright.
Because it is going above 5 degrees today, I have been commissioned to paint a shed I started painting a month ago but had to put on pause because of weather.
Mom is outside talking to the dogs. I have seen some birds - mostly black capped chickadees and slate juncos- and I read that they need water in the winter so I'm waiting to see if they use the bath I just filled for them.
I tried to instagram the birds but they fly away too fast. C'est la vie.
Oh - and I put shaved truffles on my eggs this morning. I know you jelly.