Mad cooking

That's the new mailbox. I've always loved color. Probably why I enamel way more than I do metal smithing. I remember putting jewelry in a display case for a craftsman guild show in art school. There were a few enameled pieces in with the metal work, and I was rearranging the mixed metal brooches and earrings thinking a whole case of enamels would look incredible. When I got out of college, I was doing silver work in the little apt on Raymond St. Then I had a baby, a very light-sleeping baby. Metal work is loud. There's no way around it. You can't pound quietly.

You can sift and fire quietly. I never looked back.

I've been cooking up a storm the last two days. Kurt and I are getting ready to enter the season of crazy and unpredictable work hours. Sometimes early, sometimes late, often long. It's really easy to eat poorly when you're overtired. This time, I'm ready.

I made a big pot of curried chicken yesterday, enough that there was a half gallon left after we ate it for dinner.  Made too much rice too, on purpose. I also made two pints of falafel, ready to form into patties and cook. Froze one of them. Put three pints of marinara in the freezer. It's really easy to turn marinara, ground turkey and spaghetti into dinner. Made about 3 pints of cuban black beans, about 3 dozen chocolate sugar cookies, a baker's dozen cranberry corn muffins.

We may get sleep deprived, but we'll be well fed.