Leftovers

These days I buy food and plan meals with one question in mind. Am I going to be able to eat this at least three times? Belt-tightening has its own degree of chic. It gives me a sense of adventure. Just me and Hamburger Helper against the world. For the gourmets out there, I know that was shudder-inducing. You want to pretend like you didn't just read that.

I love elegant, exquisite food--and I also know it doesn't have to be that expensive. And believe me, I'm not surviving off of boxed fare alone, but sometimes it just needs to be quick, simple, and abundant. Enter Hamburger Helper stage left.

My sister and I just feasted on leftover deep dish pizza and knock-off spaghettios. We've had a slow, leisurely morning of coffee, donuts, and Ella Fitzgerald (John Coletrane was a bit too discordant and spontaneous for her tastes at that hour). I feel happy.

The server for the financing page on the website from which I was going to try and order furniture is missing in action. I have decided to wait on getting new pieces till I move anyway. Something about trying to put new wine in old wineskins, etc.