Domesticity.

Have been on a baking bender. Apple and yoghurt custard pie. Sour cream and cardomon squares. Salmon and jasmine rice patties.
And it continues; I've had a weekend of homebody activity.
Didn't go out Friday night. Met Mr M for an after work beer, then came home and made a salmon quiche with sundried tomatoes and snow peas, for tea.
Saturday morning made omelette for breakfast and Mr M went to work.
Coffee with Butch N and wandering the streets. Bought feathery stuff to make more 'fascinators', and face scrub and a new shower curtain, and for Mr M; a red blanket. Butch N pointed out that my domestic baking spree these last few weeks could be a new-house-nesting-thing.
Mr M came and took me to The Bower to buy a new moniter for my computer. Discover it's actually the computer which is broken. So now I have 2 working monitors and 1 dead computer. Mr Z tried fidlling with it. More news later on this front I hope.
Saturday night I cook roast sweet potato and fetta rissotto for the boys. Mr M fetches beer. Full belly. Early night cuddles *yum*
Sunday morning I get up early and leave my baby bear sleeping. Spot of bathroom/toilet cleaning. Bake apple breakfast muffins. Eat them hot from the oven with butter and honey. *yummo*
Have cold salmon quiche for lunch.
Sunday afternoon, go to corner store, flirt with cute dyke shop attendant [can you reach this for me? What are you making? Bitter chocolate tarts. Oh some of my friends are bitter chocolate tarts! *giggles*. Good luck with the tarts. And with my cooking too eh?] Buy more eggs and make mini bitter chocolate tarts. Left over chocolate mix gets some baking powder and almond meal to become brownies.
Decide that I've eaten way too many eggs this weekend.
And that the dark chocolate, butter, egg yolks, tia maria, and sugar in the tarts could possibly be way too rich.
Miss A phones from overseas and we chat and chat and I love the sound of her voice and I remember the way her head moves and her hands move when she talks and I wanna give her a squeezy hug through the phone line. And I picture our voices spinning around the world to each other. *blows kisses*
Miss R and Miss B come over for a civilised afternoon tea on the front lawn with damask tablecloth and fine china and silver cake forks. House dogs sing sad songs through the door to us. Wanting to be a part of the party. I make sure Miss R takes some chocolate tarts onto her dinner engagement.
Mr Z and Miss L also went to a tea party. Must be something in the stars.
Consider cold quiche for dinner, but not hungry.
I thought such a thing would be impossible, but I am not hungry. What is wrong?
Decide to stay in tonight, rather than possible drinking engagements. Have had a whole weekend at home baking and eating and talking with friends. No wild partying. Spending all my money on household items and eggs.
No hangovers or headaches or sore feet.
Instead a (potentially not ideal) sense of lethargy. No. I will call it contentment.
Though I will say that hanging out with friends in the daytime and chatting is much better for my sense of mental wellbeing. I don't seem to have that small sense of emptiness that the morning after a big night, can sometimes bring.
Shit. Maybe I am turning into a 50's housewife!
Fuck. I did think an apron would be a good idea earlier today.
This might not be good.