Last night Mr. Bump and I made a very delicious dinner of bacon wrapped pork tenderloin, roast carrots and potatoes (of the baby yukon gold variety) and a staggering salad of romain, dolce gorgonzola and nuts, drizzled with some drops of lovely extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar. And rosemary sourdough bread dipped in more extra virgin olive oil. And I had a yummy glass of Black Swan Shiraz (from Australia). Very, very good. New recipes but will definitely be repeated.
Then David waxed the cheese (sounds dirty, eh?) he made over the weekend, which is now ready to go down to the cheese cave (i.e. the basement). It seems our food week has been spent--we are out of milk, we are out of recipes, we are paper towels.
Last night I also finally cleaned the toenail polish off my toes from the pedicure I had in December (?) and trimmed by nails and buffed them shiny. There's something about these small gestures of tending to myself--getting to plucking that stray eyebrow hair that's been staring you down in the mirror every morning or making sure you're moisturized properly--that make me feel like a grown-up in ways that a job, a mortgage, a husband do not.
But Situation Laundry is heading into its fourth week--I wouldn't say the Grown-Up Fairy has hit me with her wand just yet.