Seventeen Miles to Ravioli

The walking. THE WALKING! Damn, am I tired from all the walking! NINE miles yesterday and eight today. And any benefit from either day ruined by tonight's dinner. We MADE ravioli. It was only a matter of time before we progressed from linguini style noodles to something more advanced. These were stuffed with ricotta and basil. We served them with a cream sauce and added tomatoes orange peppers and chives to the sauce. I am now very full and disinclined to move much.
We haven't started the canning yet, but really, there isn't much available at the farmers markets TO can this early in the season. But I am more than ready to attempt to use that giant pot. It's 21 quarts!! My biggest stock pot is 5 quarts, and looks like an infant next to this behemoth.
The warmer seasons are upon us, and in about two weeks the fireworks start. Literally. Every Wednesday and Saturday over Navy Pier. I'm just waiting for the concerts at Millennium Park to start, I have a bunch of ideas for new dishes to try out. And those dishes are best enjoyed at picnics. One of these dishes will have me venturing into Greektown to find decent pita bread. Another will have me making my own crackers. Yes, the transformation into Martha is nearly complete. I think the transformation will be total sometime after I move to New Mexico, which will be in a few years or so. I refuse to wear pale blue oxford shirts with khakis though.
My bed is looking very comfortable right now, and my stomach is very full, so I think it's time for bed. Or at least time to sit and rot my brain with lots and lots of bad TV.

--Little Bird is too full to leave her nest right now.

Birthday

Ok. It's not all that late in the evening, but I am a wee bit drunk. I blame Maggie. And the Jamesons she suggested we drink. I am 34 today. I wish I could say that I have some great wisdom to impart. But, alas, I do not. I feel no older or wiser than any other day. I have no breaking news for you. No startling insights. I am merely older. I would love to tell you that I have discovered the meaning of life. I cannot. Except to say that without friends to share those meaningful moments with, life is not worth living. I was born on a day that is not conducive to getting one's friends together on. And yet I had one friend who made it happen. She went out when she probably shouldn't have, and spent time with me. To make sure I had a good time. On my birthday. I can't tell you what that means to me. (She also did a wonderful number on my hair {it looks great}).
This has been a great birthday. And for that I must thank Maggie. Hopefully I will get a chance to show my thanks soon. I'm sure an opportunity will show itself soon.
I have no recipe for you tonight, but I will soon.

--Little Bird is (again) one year older

Scum, I Am

I am actually lower than scum. I have a bit of a crush on a guy that is completely and totaly off limits. He not only has a girlfriend, he has kids with said girlfriend. Now, I am a bit straight-laced when it comes to this sorta thing. NO POACHING ALLOWED. This is my rule. I never liked being cheated on, so I won't help anyone else cheat. Even if he has "permission". Which is another thing I would never countence. I am one of those who only dates one guy at a time. I expect that guy to date only me. I guess I don't share so well.
In other news, there is another option. A guy who comes in once in a while seemed to express interest. I'm thinking that I should go for this. He's smart (seems to be anyway), he's cute, and last but not least he's available.
Now, I must go brave the wintry-mix in my (new ORANGE) rubber rain boots. I may look silly, but I have dry, warm feet. Yes, I am bringing other shoes to wear at work. I am not looking forward to this weekends weather. Brrrrrrrr.

--Little Bird is conflicted