Upon rising this morning I feel the day has been wasted before I do a thing. Before resetting a single clock. Before applying lipstick. Before coffee. I wander the garden in my bathrobe and wide brimmed hat. OMG, what is the world coming to? *My hour has been stolen!
In the garden I pet the plants. The chickens aren’t available for chitchat; they’re hiding in shady areas because the mercury is already rising. I try to remember what I did with my extra hour in the fall when we set the clocks back. Certainly is was something constructive, virtuous, and inspired.
I return to the house and paint my nails. (constructive, virtuous, inspired) ✓✓✓
I make breakfast. By Sunday we’ve often accumulated a number of eggs collected from the microfarm coop throughout the week. Eggs, like stilettos, are very versatile, able to be dressed up or down depending on the components you pair them with. Today the components are curated from the garden: kale, chives, thyme, and nasturtiums. Elegant yet laid back. A frittata.
The Frittata and I go way back. My father champions the dish as a staple of the breakfast table. It can lean heavily on refrigerator staples or utilize those still fresh yet forlorn veggies that may not be enough for a full side dish at the dinner table, but yearn for inclusion. It’s a very refrigerator dinner friendly meal.
Recipes for the frittata are all over the web. I’ll contribute one here soon, but for now I’ll share that I tend to prefer broil over bake as a finishing technique.
Later in the day a friend helps me recall what I did with my extra hour in the fall; I bathed one of the chickens. It was a warm day like today and no blow-dry was necessary. Air-dry sufficed.
Whatever you didn’t do with the hour you lost today, I hope it was ✓✓✓
*This is a theme I've been writing about, BTW. More on that later.