I turned in my final Kitchen Chronicles column, a few hours ahead of schedule even. (Though later I realized that a recipe for cooking beans probably didn’t count as an actual recipe but by then I didn’t care, and anyways, I think a bowl of boiled, salty beans is a full meal, no enhancements required, and that means it’s a recipe, right?)
I voted. The kids and I crowded around the little booth over in the corner of the hall, each of them pushing to get a clear shot of me scritch-scratching my vote in with the black sharpie. And just like last time, I wished I had thought to bring my camera so someone (not sure who) could’ve captured a picture of our ten bodiless legs.
I dropped off the kids at a friend’s house and then spent the next four hours eating bagels and scones, drinking coffee, writing/tweeting/editing/blogging, and constantly refreshing my cousin-in-law’s blog post on voting in order to stay on top of all the fascinating comments.
I ran some errands and made my first purchase for our new house: a few boxes of white twinkly lights to fend off the wet, cold, gray weather of the highlands. I plan on taking votive candles, too.
I picked up the kids and took them El Chipotle for supper. My little sister (through the Big Brother Big Sister program), who is all done growed up and has two kids of her own and a job at Chipotle, gave me a coupon to there for a party of five. We sat at a round metal table (and now I wish I had a round stainless steel metal table in my house) and stuffed our faces and didn’t fight. It was nice.
We went to the library and stocked up.
Back home, the kids did their hands, feet, and faces while my husband and I unpacked the car, straightened the house, and I posted the following on Facebook:
My husband: Do you guys know what the electoral college is?
My son: (not wanting to have the discussion) Yeah.
My husband: Okay, then what is it?
My son: It’s the place where you go to learn how to vote.
So now we’re having a bedtime civics lesson. #electionday
We cozied up the fire and jumped right into our new read aloud, Over Sea, Under Stone. The two younger children fell asleep before I even finished the first chapter.
The kids in bed, my husband snuggled up on the sofa in front of the computer. We interspersed our obsessive Huffington Post Live watching with episodes from Once Upon a Time and Parenthood. I made hot chocolate and scarfed some Halloween candy. For the nerves, you know.
This morning, the kids got yet another civics lesson when we crowded around the kitchen table to watch the speeches that my husband and I had been too tired to stay up for. And then my husband went to work and the kids and I moved on to Spanish, reading, and math lessons, making jewelry, reading library books, and baking a pumpkin cranberry cake.
But that is all today and I was supposed to be talking about yesterday, so I guess I better stop now.
P.S. For those of you beleaguered by the election season: here is a picture of neighboring houses in our town. We are friends with both families, though we know the ones on the left—both figuratively and literally—better. I first saw the sign on my way on our way to church on Sunday and it totally made my day. I couldn’t stop smiling. (It’s going on seven thousand shares, so clearly I’m not the only one smiling.)
I'm glad I could provide you with some entertainment 🙂
the domestic fringe
Your neighbor's signs are fantastic.
I am off to check some of those links…
JENNIFER how could you??? You wrote three of my favorite words in a row and no recipe??????
I'm going to go shove towels in my mouth to staunch the mouth-watering hope that you invoked by typing "pumpkin cranberry cake."
The recipe was in the paper today. I made a vanilla bean-speckled frosting to go with it, but I think I might like the cake better just straight-up. It would make good muffins, too.
I'll have to check it out. Thanks!
Hang tight—I did some experimenting today. A new recipe is coming!
Mark and Erika?
I thought maybe. They rock.