A weak fluttering of content

I forgot to mention our visit from Peter W. and his enceinte spouse Stacy on Friday. They were visiting other friends in the Adirondacks, and were kind enough to stop in for bar-be-cue (a word I spell differently every time I type it) at PJ's and a rousing game of Careers. Careers is apparently some sort of nostalgic delight for adfamiliares, but since I lost all my money "shopping" I view the entire enterprise with suspicion. Stacy's injured foot prevented us from showing them around Saratoga, but they got to meet Gus, which is what really matters.

adfamiliares and I have been working a lot, and tomorrow she heads off to Pennsylvania for a family reunion, so our exciting news has been kept to a minimum. I did achieve a successful result in my grilled pizza experiment—thin crust striped with scorch marks, topped with goat cheese, sliced tomatoes, and pesto made from the basil we grow on our porch. Follow that with tiramisu from Mrs. London's and you've got yourself a pretty lovely evening.