Gift lists

There is - I have said this before - something peculiarly uncomfortable about drawing up and then publicising wedding-present lists. It's like touting for awards: much as I like presents (and awards) I apparently hate to ask for them. But people have been complaining to Karen that we weren't doing it right, we weren't offering enough choices; so we now have a registry also at Sur La Table as well as Bed Bath and Beyond, and a wishlist at ThinkGeek.

So. There it is.

Almost everything seems to be kitchen-related. How odd.

Gosh.

The nice cat courier people want to collect the boys on Sunday.

I can haz separation anxiety?

It's good to be flexible

If I can't find the case for this Janis Ian CD, then I can't put it away; so really the only choice is to play it again. Sam*.

In other news, it's a good thing I don't have a smoke alarm in this house. (I just crisped some bacon, since you ask. Um, crispily.) Karen does have a smoke alarm, and I trigger it almost every time I cook in CA. And stomp off to rip it from the ceiling, and swear foully. And then she makes me put it back, so's it'll be in place for next time.

In other other news, I will never be the kind of cook who cooks with fresh truffles and foie gras. Nor the kind who can afford elvers. Ergo and therefore, I can absolutely leave behind some of my high-end French cookbooks, which are all about that kind of cookery. *sighs*


*"Sam" is here pronounced "QED"