It is cold.  With windchill, it may be -40 tomorrow.  I have a chicken mole recipe that is done in a crock pot and makes enough to freeze a meal or two after supper.

Lately, no, recently, no, today, I was thinking about whether I could live with another adult again.  My cooking, choice of meals, is very dull.  I mean this mole is not bad. I serve it to Julia with rice and fresh spinach.  Tonight, with a little cauliflower and a few garbanzo beans.  With rare exceptions, Julia eats what I serve to her.  I do think about her dislikes when I cook but her range of foods is pretty broad. I try to avoid bread, starch and cheese.  Julia eats without comment.  If she does not disapprove, she just eats.  And so, I don’t please her.

“Julia, do you like what you are eating?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell the cook.”

“Mommy, the food is ok.”

Cheshire and Linde are coming to visit in a few weeks and I was thinking about cooking for them.  For a few moments, I was intimidated just imagining trying to please them.   The reactions makes me feel like a bit of a hermit.  I need an adult roommate.

School was called off for tomorrow around noon today.  And today was only a few degrees better.  We will do our weekend list of school related work.  I had Julia start painting her bed this afternoon and wouldn’t you know that she does a good job putting on a first coat of paint.  I was working on the headboard and was rather casual with my first coat.  When she was done with what I had given her, she asked if she could “fix” mine.  She used to ask the same thing when David or I tried to make play dough dinosaurs with her.  I did not show her how to brush evenly, I did not tell her not to put paint on the end pieces.  She just seemed to know.  She is a visual learner but I never imagined that she looked at painted furniture and somehow learned or understood what it took to make the piece look like that.