I am back. I can breathe out of my nose. It basically feels like the first day of spring. I want to click my heels and dance with my hands waving in the air. I want to do jumping jacks. I want to bake cookies. I want to do anything that is not struggling to breathe while lying on a couch and watching terrible daytime programming. I want to eat anything but chicken soup. If I eat anymore chicken soup, I fear I will actually transform into a chicken. This would make my cooking/blogging life difficult. Wings don’t have thumbs, making it very hard to type and even harder to lift things like pots or baking sheets.
Enough of that. I haven’t left the house for more than ten minutes at a time in the last six days. Forgive all preposterous declarations of what life would be like if I was indeed a blogging chicken. It would be hard, that’s all I am sayin’. Also, I would probably not make you things like quiche. Chickens don’t eat quiche. Aren’t you happy I am not a chicken? Continue reading