I think it’s that time of year again — the time to wear sweaters. Currently I am snuggling up and to a deliciously soft, warm, comfy, and longer-than-is-usual for me specimen from Banana Republic (the sales, oh, they are upon us) in which I indulged Friday night on the way to meet my friend for tea and a TLT (that’s “tofu-lettuce-tomato” for we San Franciscans who eschew bacon). That was a lovely evening; not only did I get to catch up with a long-lost amie, but I got a new sweater and (!) I stumbled upon a new tea obsession quite by chance. Who knew a red herbal tea from the South African bush could taste so good? I surely didn’t, and will be rambling on about it at a future date for sure. The very least of its charms is that it’s decaffeinated, which meant that late this afternoon when I was working on my mountain of holiday cards I had two cups, lightly sweetened and laced with milk, with no fear I’d be kept awake late.
In the meantime, though, of course, coffee. Well, coffee and quinoa, too, though not together. After a long and languid week of working my way through lots of leftovers — and a cake — my body was begging me for some vegetables and light and clean protein. Tonight’s dinner was just quinoa cooked and tossed with sauteed vegetables and chickpeas and swirled with a little soy sauce and topped with lemony tahini. I ate probably too much but still there are leftovers and I’m looking forward to those for my lunch tomorrow. It almost makes up for tomorrow being Monday, those leftovers.
For — yet again — the weekend passed much too quickly. I blame myself mostly: I slept in yesterday morning to the decadent hour of 10.30, and then mooched around for awhile drinking coffee and talking to my mom and reading a little bit and looking out the window and drinking a lot of water and then some more coffee until I finally laced up my running shoes and went out for 10 miles in the cool sun down to the beach and along it for a mile and then back, ever so slowly, up through the park and back home. Then, too, there was an excursion for an amazing burrito (hadn’t had one in months), poinsettia-plant procuring, a detour to Trader Joe’s, a stop for special holiday-appropriate ice cream and then … and then it was Sunday morning again. A sad fail on the part of Muni had me skip yoga, but I still had my farmers market (spinach, a red pepper, cauliflower, chard) and coffee. It always comes back to coffee, right? On a chilly, iron-gray day like today all you really want to to is drink a lot of coffee (OK, and then tea later), eat cookies, and finish your laundry. I did most of these things and it was lovely all ’round.
Still and all, I swear the weekends go by faster than ever they used to. Maybe it’s because it gets dark before 5p these days? Or am I just less productive with my time? Although, if you count poring over some old magazines (New Yorker, forgive me!) and then writing a few holiday cards and making a cup of tea, then dusting the windowsills and fiddling around with the radio and having a glass of orange juice, and then writing a few more cards, putting on the quinoa and thinking long and hard about whether I am in fact tough enough to watch HBO’s “House of Saddam” (yes, but only sorta) productive well yes, thank you, I am highly productive with my weekend afternoons.
Sigh. Well, thank goodness there’s still two weeks and change to go before the 25th. I need every day I can get. Mostly, you know, to bake. More on that soon.