Nobody cares what you eat for lunch, but sometimes they care what you cook.

It has been the cookingest weekend I've had in a very long time. The tally as of tonight is carrot cake and mashed potatoes for the annual Christmas potluck, panzanella and mac & chee for me (no, that's not all I'm eating; I have protein, too) and four loads of laundry, all folded and put away.

I've also made a new cover for my down comforter of fabric Beloved Sis sent me. It's white with gray elephants and green palm trees on it. Some of the elephants are carrying fruit (pineapple and cherries) or flowers, and others have pink toenails. They're all smiling.

Mom and Dad say that all is well where they are. They live in a protected valley in Seattle and so didn't get the brunt of the wind this past week. They also cut down all the trees that might've caused problems when they moved in, so that's all good. I hear that my favorite two bars (Wedgwood Ale House and Fiddler's Inn, both on 35th) sustained no damage, so we can all relax.

It's been a swell weekend. I was tired to death of sick people, so it was good to have three days off in a row. I'll pay for it next week and over Christmas, of course, but that's how these things work. For New Year's Eve, Chef Boy will be visiting a friend of his down south, so I'll have to find something to do other than dressing changes and cake-baking.

Perhaps I'll order the rest of the books on my Amazon list. And a pizza. And grab a six-pack of Celebration Ale. Mmmm. Nurse vacation.