The PB Blues

Blue no longer. Peanut butter, bacon and white bread is the atheist's manna. Now the difficulty is resisting making it for breakfast every morning (luckily, we used up the rest of the bacon fixing our sandwiches). To stave off any errant PBB cravings I made a batch of oatmeal breakfast bars with dried cranberries, granola and bittersweet chocolate, and I have a pot of french onion soup burbling on the stove for dinner. I'm going to add some fresh focaccia and a salad and a large glass of red wine, settle on the couch, and write my new syllabus.

T starts rehearsals at one of Portland's premier theatres tonight, so the cat and I have the run of the house. It's so beautifully clean (downstairs, anyway)! T and I spent all day spring cleaning--stove, cabinets, bookshelves, linens--which was boring but entirely satisfying. I've promised to clean the bathroom, and I need to leave for the gym in 20 minutes, so I better stop blogging. I just wanted to recommend the Elvis-wich. EAT IT. It will curtail your woes and make a party in your mouth.