Never sweep a floor laden with dust and cat hair while wearing a clean, black, linen shirt.
In other news, about two weeks ago, when I got back from my visit with Bob, Sarah and Henry in southern Wisconsin, I had with me most of a loaf of very heavy, dark rye bread that we'd bought at the co-op in Milwaukee. This is the classic bread known among many as Bob bread – as it's his characteristic dietary staple. I like it too. I was trying to think of a way to use it, and thought to myself: pea soup. I haven't really done much cooking in the last decade or so – living alone is like that. But I had this bag of dried split peas, and some nice fresh apricots, and I got creative in the kitchen – generally, this is something that goes well for me.
I ran to the store and bought some leeks and carrots, and put together a pea-apricot soup (more like stew) with leeks and carrots. Added some cayenne, tumeric, cumin … you know. So I cooked up a giant batch, and ate some with the dark bread, and put the rest in little containers in the freezer. I went back and had some more the other day, and man, that stuff is awesome. And I'm so dumbfounded that I followed no recipie, just kind of a weird instinct, and that it came out so good – better than the (admittedly quite good) gourmet stuff to be had from the Lunds grocery across the street.
Well, so anyway – such episodes of domesticity are awfully rare.