My cooks have quit.
I just spent a lovely hour and a half un-planting some of my garden. It was, let me tell ya, a banner year for crabgrass and nettles. The thistles and clover don't seem to have done as well. I figure if I spend the hour a day I expect my kids to do on homework, doing work for my home, everyone wins. And maybe I'll catch up. Yesterday I replaced the outside light on the garage. maaaaaany feet in the air. But yeah! Now it actually comes on at night when you drive in. And shuts itself off.
And then I cut the front lawn with my new Black Beauty while Scott did the field in the back. Big power this thing has - 26 horses, and the lawn mowing ability of a whole flock of sheep.
But back to the title of this post. My cooks have quit. Tori and Simon start school in... 40 hours, and even though I gave them the option of making dinner this week anyway, they both passed. Since the weather has chilled a little, it's a soup night. Italian Wedding, rather than the Chicken Noodle on the menu. The chicken carcass I found in the freezer has been simmering all day, time to get that broth strained and add some sausage and spinach and tiny pasta. The bread's been working all day too - a modified NY Time No-Knead Bread (a little extra yeast since I started this morning instead of last night.) This house is gonna smell gooo-oood!