Home made Pizza

You know nothing makes a girl feel good like the hope of that surrounds a New Moon, and a home made pizza.

I made the sauce with tomato paste, kalamata olive juice, kalamata olives, onion and garlic... oh man I just realized I forgot the oregano. Oh well I can tear some fresh oregano and place it on top.  I used a whole-wheat crust. It is funny I used to think I was allergic to bread. I know now what I have is: Reactive Hypoglycemia. That means I have to eat complex carbos and it is best to have them with fat. Which makes pizza the perfect food. :)

I am growing garlic, basil, chives, and parsley in my window seal. It is to bad I do not have any oregano. My herbs garden was inspired by a movie that I saw a long time ago... The movie had a character in it who had dies. The woman stays dead for something like ten years and then her sister, (who was a practicing witch) brings her back to life... I do not remember the name of the movie but I remember the protagonist had a window with several shelves of herbs in her kitchen. Why don't we all have shelves of herbs in our kitchen I don't know. I have a little start. 

I think I may be growing more sane. It is nice here in New England today. However, I did go outside in a t-shirt and I think it is only in the upper 40s. So the jury may be out on my sanity theory.
Maybe blood is thickening up nicely. Maybe the pizza is helping. Here is a toast to windows filled with herbs and homemade pizza.

Saving the Sweets

My home is filled with ginger bread, caramel covered pop corn, chocolate cake, chocolate covered toffee, fudge, cookies, and one piece of sticky toffee pudding. I find I have this inner worry that these divine sweets will go bad and that I must eat them all before that happens.
In contrast to these thoughts however, I have been exercising in hopes to balance out my need to save the sweets.
For example, yesterday I walked to the bank, which my pedometer says is 2,570 steps from my home.
On my way, I walked over large mountains of snow. I walked past a man in yellow rubber boots who was pushing some strange, snow blowing, contraption. The machine he was using had a protective plastic frame that looked like a *phone booth. The man in the phone booth was on top of a lawnmower looking machine that tossed snow into the air, like confetti on New Years day. Be aware those machines are nothing you want to be down wind from.
When I got down town I walked in a canyon. A canyon that had been carved from show shovels, creating mountains of snow. I watched a man climb one of those mountains, to put letter in a UPS box. I walked down the sidewalk canyon in our small city past fifteen bars, a rent a center, and a small dinner with $2.95 eggs and potatoes, before reaching the bank. Tucson came into my mind, then, the Wizard of Oz line: Dorthy your not in Kansas anymore. The East is so different than the dessert.  I do like the change in seasons. I enjoy the challenge of shoveling snow and the quiet contentment to sit inside on snow covered days like this one and write on the computer.
Thanks to my walk I am going to make a pot of coffee and sit back with a piece of ginger bread and enjoy today's adventure in saving the Christmas sweets.

*a phone booth is a small room with three glass walls. Inside those walls is a phone. You could, at one time, drop a quarter, (yes only a quarter), into the phone and call someone you loved.