If there were such a time, with such a name, this would be it: the week between Christmas and New Year's. The days may not be as long, but they have surely been just as languid. As a crew of men worked busily on our ceilings and drywall, much of the inside remained sealed in great sheets of plastic, and we were obliged to hang around outside with Marley, and nothing much else to do. By some ridiculous coincidence, the weather has been dry and unnaturally warm. I hate to think how miserable we would have been if it were in the 50s and raining.
The living room, covered in plastic.
Jerry on the patio. I don't know why he's all bundled up. It was sunny and warm all day.
Here's my garage-kitchen.
I have my microwave and a handful of counter-top appliances: crockpot, rice cooker, toaster oven, electric griddle. And we have our gas barbecue. I even have use of my neighbor's kitchen this weekend while she's out of town, but I can't think of anything I really want that I can't make here.
