The past four days have been super-ass busy for the folks at my work -- me included. I've honestly spent most of my waking hours working, driving to/from work, or eating. That's actually one of the reasons Sarah crafted the Celebration of Pork on Thursday. I was locked away in the office most of the afternoon, working orders.
Anyhow, while I was away at work on Friday (4:00 am 'til 7:00 pm), Sarah put up the Christmas tree and wrapped presents. Pretty much all day. Here's a sample of her efforts:
Then on Satuday I woke up grumbling because I knew I'd have to work most of the day again, but I got up and dutifully started my reporting anyway. Round about 1 pm, Sarah and I decided to take a break from all the housework and workwork we'd been doing and head up to the Springbrook Nature Center for a jaunt around the trails.
We spent a lot of the drive up and the first few minutes of the walk complaining about how much work there was going to be in next few weeks -- lots of staring at computer screens, planning for family stuff, driving to staring at computer screens, driving to staring at family, stuff.
Then we realized we were surrounded by an acre of actual work:
We were in the middle of a forest that had been essentially de-forested by a few fuzzy critters using nothing more than their goddamn teeth. It makes clicking through internet orders or staring at chromosomes all day seem like chump work, and definitely nothing worth complaining about.
This doesn't really convey the extent of their strategic gnawing, but there was a lot of it. And it put everything I've done in my life (with my teeth) to shame.
Speaking of teeth, after another day of (relative) work on Sunday, Sarah made a throwback meal. It's a recipe we call "Devonshire Chicken" since that's where it was born. ...oh, by the way, I'm talking about Devonshire apartment complex in Mankato, not Devonshire, England. One of those places is full of mid-afternoon drunks with unintelligble accents who drive on the wrong side of the road and would sooner run you down than look at you... the other is in England.
This meal was pretty good though. Chicken braised in stock, white wine, garlic, onions, and bay leaves, topped with sauted mushrooms.
Anyway, Food Diary, I've got several weeks to go (hopefully) before the insanity at work lets up (hopefully), but I'd guess the worst of it is over. And really the worst of it was like nothing compared to felling a fricking tree with my bare teeth, then dragging it (again with my teeth and tiny beaver legs) across the forest into the water and across the river to my damn dam.
I think I'll make it.
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