Cook, that is. Christine is in the city for a week so I’m making next to nothing, letting the garden and Milo determine what I have to do. Tonight he had black beans (canned, to my chagrin) plus leftover sweet potato and fresh endive mash which he loves and eats by the handful out of the suribachi while I try to make it. I had tofu tossed with most of the above and some quinoa and pickles. Tomorrow, probably pasta with pesto and salad. I want to make bread, but it’s stinking hot (although the nights are cool and perfect.) I’m not even drinking much wine. It’s like vacation in Bizarro World- in that I’m not actually on vacation- but it’s nice to not cook much for a while and just coast.