Inside my bathroom mirror is a list of my goals for the year. Friends who've known me for a while will smile, this list is generally written in a flurry of gel pen and bucketed into categories around food and fun and all kinds of self-improvement. I even committed, in glittering blue, to blogging twice a month while starting the school.
I also set food intentions. Less chronicling, more eating, I must've thought. #2 and #1 are still to be determined, but we have been to Bay Ridge for Greek food, Brighton Beach for a Russo-phile's dream and Sunset Park for middle eastern. We've had a spring brunch featuring our new favorite: dutch baby.
I've stewed rhubarb, am jubilee-ing cherries as I type, and have eaten handfuls of peas each week.
I think if I could blog via the Blackberry, I could do more while I wait for elevated trains than re-read work emails too important to type with two fingers to or browse the happenings of people I haven't seen in years on Facebook.
Today we went to Egg. Sunday after a holiday we thought would be quiet, which it was, save the families around us with babies squealing like small birds. Liam ordered the CHB, I got the Eggs Rothko, and a biscuit, and we drew the story of our weekend on the table.
I just forgot to take a picture.