Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Canned Peas.

It is 11:29 pm. I am sitting at my kitchen table. The floor is not swept, but the dishes are done, so that's progress. I am addressing wedding invitations for someone who lives in San Diego. My Beloved is in Dallas, which is a 20 hour drive away. Or something like that. The Wee One is screaming in her room, and has been (off and on) since I put her to bed.

There is only one thing I want at a time like this, and it is called canned peas. But I'm all out.

And I'm not even kidding.

I miss you, Beloved.
Come home soon.


  1. My odd midnight craving is for chocoloate chips. I really should stop buying the Costco sized Nestle Tollhouse bag. I mean, really. I haven't made chocolate chip cookies since October. The bag is almost gone...

  2. Two things:

    1. We really were having quite a delightful time here in Dallas on the evening of March 31! However, we were all in bed long before 11:29, trust me.
    2. I would have to be STARVING NIGH UNTO DEATH before consuming even a single canned pea. The thought alone makes me retch. I find it almost surreal that you, or anyone, for that matter, can even think of (let alone, eat) canned peas with pleasure. Amazing.