Ok. So I guess I need some kind of outlet. The couch routine is getting old, not to mention most of the routines I’m in. I’ve always been able to avoid routines. Workout routine? Not for more than three weeks. House-cleaning routine? Not until I start to see roaches. Routinely.
But as it turns out, I find myself these days in a number of routines. A work routine, first and foremost. Up every weekday by 6:45 (ok, 7:20), showered, dog walked and fed, and on the road by 7:45 (ok, 8:20). Work till 5:30 (ok, 8:30), then home – where I continue to check my emails, chew my fingernails, and think about things like blood pressure, until bedtime. I think I’ve been in a work routine long enough now that I’ve almost come to depend on it. It is comfortable. It is easy. It is predictable.
Thankfully I’ve got my Jessica. If there’s a routine there, it’s a good routine. It’s a routine that keeps me sane, happy, full, drunk, joking, laughing, and smiling. And there are still plenty of surprises. Like the time I discovered that despite years of rolling house-salad tomatoes to the side, pawning them off to friends in exchange for cucumbers, croutons, or more cheese — she absolutely loves everything I cook involving tomatoes! As a tomato fan for, going on, 29 years now this makes me extremely proud of my choice in cohabitant. I’m smitten. Still.
Anyway. So we made this bruschetta (pronounced by assholes as bruce-Ket-Ahh). And before we enjoyed a plate full of these olive-oil basted crispy plateaus of french baguette, canvassed by boulders of sweet balsamic-vinegar-drenched tomatoes, topped with garlic, basil and balsamic reduction… I took some photos. Enjoy.
– I dedicate my first (and if my routine remains unchanged, likely my last) blog post of 2011 to Jessica. May our spring and summer be filled with plenty of tomatoes! … And may we continue whatever routine it is that makes us as happy as we’ve been these four years. I love you.
NOTE: I do not actually wait for repeated visits by roaches to begin cleaning. That’s just gross.
