As someone whose enthusiasm for autumn has been described as
frightening, I feel as though I have been falling down on the job a little bit. It's not that I haven't been celebrating the most magnificent 25% of the year with every fiber of my being, it's just that I haven't been reporting it in this space, what with Halloween and excessive birthday fêting and all. But just because you can't
see the
Autumn Cobb Salad with Smoky Pumpkin Dressing doesn't mean that Autumn Cobb Salad with Smoky Pumpkin Dressing isn't happening here and in fact GOOD NEWS now you
can see the Autumn Cobb Salad with Smoky Pumpkin Dressing!
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| See! |
I've mostly focused on making hot, cinnamon-y breakfasts (the typing of which has made me realize that making hot, cinnamon-y breakfasts should probably be my life's work), some of which looked lovely.
And
some of which looked like the talking garbage heap from Fraggle Rock.
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| Side note: when introduced to Fraggle Rock, Anna's assessment was "It's like the Muppets, but Fraggler," which a) is accurate, and b) means that she has inherited my belief in the elasticity of language. If I can just get her to start defending these words as "perfectly cromulent," my work will be done. |
While the weather outside is brisk and delightful, the indoor thermostat has been set at a balmy teenage degrees.
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| Not pictured: extensive application of chapstick to the forehead, which I assume is what the kids are into these days. |
