The house is much closer to clean, which makes me feel like a domestic goddess. We're still eating the curry I made a few days ago -- I can't seem to adjust my amounts down for two people; I still cook as if I'm cooking for a family of five, the way my mother taught me. Kevin cooked last night too, a huge pot of spicy Mexican chicken soup. We'll freeze most of it, I think, but will eat the rest tomorrow with salad -- avocado and corn and black beans and chopped tomatoes and jicama and crispy tortilla bits and shredded cheese and hot sauce. Yum. I'm not entirely sure you still get to call it a salad after you add all that, but you definitely get to call it delicious.
It's beautifully warm here today -- 50 degrees and thunderstorms coming, I think. It's making me want to spend as much time outside as possible, but I'm waiting for some packages to be delivered (our Xmas presents, which we couldn't fit into our luggage, and which Kev's folks kindly shipped for us), so I'm trapped here at home. But I've got the window open and music playing and I'm going to go back to reading Carmit's memoir. Kev's teaching now, but will be home by 3:30, and then I think I'll run up to Nordstrom's, return the interview shoes that I ended up not needing because my sister bought me shoes, and then take a nice long leisurely walk home. That sounds lovely -- and it qualifies as my exercise for the day, which just makes it all the better.