Brown Butter Chocolate Chunk Cookies

We have some friends coming into town over the next couple of months, and everybody knows that the coming of company usually sends people into a fit of cleaning. For me, it's more opportunistic than stemming from feelings of inadequacy. My productivity is nothing if not fueled by common sense: "Oh look! It finally makes sense to wipe down the baseboards in the kitchen and deep-clean the fridge."

This weekend we had every intention of scrabbling through our attached shed to find cans of paint and our rollers and a drop cloth. We meant to paint over a stain on the kitchen ceiling, and the puckered scar of some plumbing work in the guest room.

Yes, this weekend was supposed to be about painting. I can't tell you the number of weekends that have been supposed to be about painting. I think that the plumbing work (from whence came both spots) happened over a year ago, and yet here we are: mere days away from a friend's visit and no closer to painting a coat of "Misty Skies" over the guest room wall or "Ceiling White" over a part of the kitchen ceiling that hasn't been white in twelve months. We also intended to fold several baskets of clean laundry that had been lurking around our bedroom with guilt-trippy faces as we pursued a hectic course through the past few weeks, ignoring them and plucking clean clothing from them on an as-needed basis. 

Judge ye not: if you're quick to the draw in painting your house or folding your clean laundry, you can keep it to yourself. We're all happy for you.

Sunday afternoon we came home from a church picnic and tumbled directly into bed for a nap, and that was the end of any intention of painting anything besides my fingernails for the rest of the weekend. Though we procrastinated, I'm sure Chris will arrive in town for his scheduled visit to a clean house, folded and put-away laundry, and (with any luck) some painted-over spots. Though I can't promise the paint will have had time to dry. I might be rinsing a paintbrush as he pulls into our parking lot. I hope he doesn't mind the smell of fresh paint.

Strawberry Vanilla Bean Iced Latte

Happy Wednesday to those who celebrate, by which I mean happy Wednesday to all of us. Life doesn't seem to give one much of a choice about whether to participate in Wednesdays or not, but here we are. In my analog life, I work as a nanny. The child with whom I spend fifty+ hours a week is never happier than when being outside. She is two and a half now - I began work with this particular family when she was only seven weeks old. Wild to think how much time has passed, and what a big person she has become. I've kept her alive and well, and that's really something, considering she still tries to eat handfuls of gravel for no apparent reason.