Even after trimming my blogging schedule to twice a week, I still don’t seem to have enough hours in the day. There’s the omnipresent wedding and honeymoon planning to be done, along with everyday time sinks like working and writing and sleeping. I’ve always hated sleeping. It just seems like such a wasteful enterprise, lying unconscious for eight to ten hours out of every day. In the past, I rarely slept more than three hours a night and I loved it. That was, of course, before I had a three-year-old in the house. Now it’s early to bed and early to rise, which – contrary to popular belief – does not make a boy healthy, wealthy and wise. It just makes him tired. For example:
These days, my alarm goes off at 5:30 am. I grumble incoherent phrases as I reluctantly toss back the covers and climb out of bed. After a brief pit stop in the bathroom, I shuffle zombie-like down the hall towards the kitchen. Once there, I shield my eyes from the hateful light that I’m forced to switch on, since I’ve never gotten around to having cybernetic night vision nanites injected into my corneas. And, since I usually sleep with my contacts in, my early morning vision of the kitchen is a haze-filled blur of nondescript shapes and curious knobs.
First, I start the coffee. If I plan ahead the night before, the grounds are already in the filter, clean water is in the reservoir, and the whole affair is reduced to flicking a simple power switch. If I don’t plan ahead, then I’m confronted with the unenviable task of starting the whole vicious process from step one, which calls for measuring coffee into the filter along with the delicate motor skills required to fill the pot with water and then successfully empty it into the microscopic intake area of Brittany’s fiendishly-designed coffee maker. It sounds simple when you’re awake, but my mind is nestled somewhere between vegetative and cro-magnon for at least half an hour after I get out of bed, and the damnable procedure often gets the better of me.
Brittany and Trey come stumbling out of bed once the food is ready, and we all sit down to enjoy a nice, quick breakfast. After we’re done eating, Trey happily gets dressed (or unhappily, with drama) and he and Brittany pile into her car. I walk them out, give a few goodbye hugs and kisses, then I draw a couple of Mickey Mouse shapes onto Trey’s window and watch them drive off. I then go back inside, fully awake and ready to start the day!
Five seconds later, I’m asleep.
Try this for dinner. Serve hot, with a few slices of a thick, rustic bread that you either make yourself or get from a good bakery. Your family will thank you for it and you, in turn, will thank me. Preferably with money.
pepperPeel, seed, and dice the tomatoes (four or five), then toss them into a pot and add the tomato juice. (Add a lot of it, it’ll cook down.) Simmer for a half-hour or so.
Add the basil leaves (around fifteen to twenty good-sized leaves), and puree the whole shebang until everything is a nice, even consistency.
Add the butter and slowly stir in the heavy cream. (A good general rule: one stick of butter and one cup of cream for every four cups of juice.)
Add a little garlic powder, then salt and pepper to taste.