I'm no Desperate Housewife, but I've definitely moved into some kind of wacky neighborhood. One neighbor, probably the den mother of the street, came by last night with a homemade pizza with artichokes and fine slivers of onions literally fresh out of the oven because she carried it three doors down to ours on a pizza peel, presented it to CMan who was home at the time and building something. (For those of you who are curious, I was not home and I was not running... instead, dining on chilled tomato cucumber soup, seared salmon wtih tomato chili chutney, and chocolate mousse as part of the city's semi-annual prix fixe festival).
When I did get home from dinner -- with intentions of getting a couple of Ks in before darkness descended -- I met another two sets of neighbors, leisurely sharing a bottle of red on the porch. Bye bye run! (But no drink either. That counts for something). I think I'm going to really love the new neighborhood...I've met more neighbors in one week than I have in the four years I was at the condo.
This morning, I was up at 5:30 a.m. I could've run, but I didn't, and instead went to the condo and cleaned up the place a bit before heading to work. A long day of work before....
Them Hills tonight!
Then pizza.
2 comments:
Sounds like a great "neighborhood" with lots of nice people. That Pizza sounds delish. As my three year old and I like to chant P-I-Z-Z-A, I want Pizza! Did I say that out loud??
Travis -- my ears weren't ringing but my quads were burning from the hills. Is that the same thing?
.. Bob, P-I-Z-Z-A with B-E-E-R! what a perfect combination.
Post a Comment