There may be nothing nicer than a cold, rainy fall day (temperature: 47*) with "Motown Remixed" (picks: the "Sympathy for the Grapes" remix of "Heard It Through the Grapevine" and "The Tears of A Clown") and cold pizza and a nice pale ale.
Especially when you've just laid down a new rug that really ties the room together--and in this joint, that's a job for tugboat chains and Superglue--and put together the some-assembly-required TV stand to replace the nasty one you got rid of weeks ago.
The TV is plugged in for the first time in six weeks. The TV stand isn't put together *quite* right, but it's passable. Imperfect but solid, like the rest of the place.
Thanks to the miracles of modern commercial architecture, I can leave the porch door open even in the rain. Unless, of course, it's one of those thunderstorms that Darwinizes the stupid and drops quarter-sized hail. The porch faces west, after all.
If I had the energy
I would make a meatloaf and mashed potatoes and corn and beans for dinner. I don't have the energy, however, and so I'll probably end up eating whatever Chef Boy is cooking tonight. One perk to dating a chef: even the hamburgers he makes are ambroisia.
Now off to read
Mary Roach has a followup to Stiff called Spook--a scientific exploration of the paranormal. I'm looking forward to starting it with more cold pizza.
Shrimplate put a great recipe for duck quesadillas on his blog the other day. It's worth trying.