So, Glenn and I have, for the very first time in our adult lives, or at any time in our lives, actually, come into contact with poison ivy. Our jury of two has weighed in, determining that, should such a thing as hell exist, literally or metaphorically, it must be lined with the dastardly vine. Oh, and perpetual hold on phone service calls, according to Glenn. We’re whiny and miserable. But at least we’re suffering together, right? Never again will pulling out vines seem benign. From this day forward, no matter the temperature, I will not set out in my forest, or on its periphery, without head-to-toe clothing, closed-toe shoes, gloves and a hat. Lesson learned. Case closed.
On a happier, less itchy note, I’ve been enamored with Mediterranean food lately, particularly the cuisines of Cyprus, Syria and Lebanon. I’m hoping to score this book soon and begin a monthly supper club, featuring cuisines of the world. Because, life is short, you know? Why pine foods in far-flung locales when my friends and I can whip it up at home? Or at least attempt to. Oh, the itching is resuming, must find Calamine…..