in my kitchen: 7:35 a.m.

*daughter struggling to slice mostly-frozen bread for her lunch sandwiches (that’ll teach her to think ahead)
*also, naughty girl is wearing her forbidden S.K.s (shit kickers) in the house
*husband reading, always reading, while eating his standard bowl of granola—this time around it’s Fahrenheit 451 that he happened to pick up
*frosted mini-wheats from Costco—all bought cereal is only ever allowed to be eaten a-top a generous portion of the homemade granola
*two jars of granola on the counter to choose from: regular and French chocolate
*freaking impossible-to-pour jug of milk, also from Costco
*hand towels tossed about: on the table, in the drainer, etc
*at least the drainer is empty
*coupon flyer to Tractor Supply waiting on the table because my daughter has yet to decide if she’ll take advantage of their store discount for her lunge rope and sheep feed
*random apple on counter
*sheet ice (and bowl ice) because it’s fun to make ice in random shapes, I guess
*thermos that is never used but still somehow gets dirty
*by the hutch, husband’s satchel and daughter’s backpack all ready to go
*dirty wineglass from my evening snack (I think I also had Dubliner cheese)

This same time, years previous: how to use up Thanksgiving leftovers in 10 easy steps, the quotidian (11.25.13), a big day at church, a Thanksgiving walk, right now, cranberry pie with cornmeal streusel topping, pasta with creamy pumpkin sauce, apple rum cake, chocolate pots de crème, steel-cut oatmeal, potato leek soup, and feminism part two.       


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