The clocks ticks, and ticks, and ticks as I wait for the morning ritual of the nurses visit...now they send two for some odd reason. One more day of this and I'm free. Oh, forgot, visit the surgeon on Monday for my official pass off base. If I were a drinking man I'd hit the first bar in town and get rip roaring drunk. But in reality I'll just drive around and enjoy the beauty of our fully bloomed Azaleas. Everywhere I look I see reds and pinks and purples, nice.
Yesterday I went to market and bought the ingredients for a nice Italian dinner. I wanted to do something nice for my lovely wife. She's been through hell the last two months. So I made her a fine dinner, from scratch mind you, of meatballs and spaghetti with bruschetta and a nice fresh salad. I don't do canned or jar sauces. I begin with Roma tomatoes and pace myself for a long day of hard work. It paid off. She smiled all evening. By the way, a small block of imported Parmigiano Reggiano, a very small chunk, cost eleven dollars.
Your red sauce, a traditional one please, should have been simmering for at least an hour. Then add the meatballs.
Bruschetta, under construction.
About the time I was deep into my preps I received a text from my son with a request I run and pick up my Little Bit from school. Afterwards she walks into the house and said, "Papa, it smells so good in here."
She runs in and rummages through my knifes and selects a small one and turns to me with, "Okay, Papa, I'm ready to chop." Love that girl, I do.
Have a great day.