I had a not so original idea this morning: Take a picture of what you see out back every day for one month. I’m not sure if I’ll follow through with this for two reasons. One, I’m lazy. And two, it’s been done before (and flawlessly) by so many other (more interesting) people. I think it was even done in a movie or two. One of those movies was either Blue in the Face or Smoke. I can’t remember which one. Anyway, here are some pictures taken this morning (and one from last night).
Cold and gray here in Brooklyn.
Upper Manhattan. I call this “The Antenna King.”
I made low-cal peach pie last night. This one was a bit higher in calories than the raspberry pie and the blueberry pie because of the top crust. (The crust is the bulk of its calories. Each crust holds 400 calories worth of wheat flour. Are you annoyed with my calorie talk yet? Imagine how Toby must feel. (Note to family members who read this: I think I might need some pie pans. Look at that sad bastard, barely keeping up.)
The peach pie is the best one yet. We nearly consumed the entire thing in one sitting. Toby is inhaling it.
And here is our still very naked Christmas tree. I think we need more ornaments and some tinsel for Tucker to destroy come Saturday.
heh…you do realize that you pretty much negate the low-cal thing by eating it all in one sitting, right?
I blame it all on Toby. He claimed that every time he looked at a certain piece of code on his monitor it was telling him to eat more pie. That’s some powerful code, I might add. I wish they had code that worked the other way, “Must not eat pie or donuts or ice cream or fudge.”
The code talks to Toby? I guess that’s why he’s got a book and we don’t.
I guess so! Until last night, I wasn’t aware. It does explain a lot. The code must have told him to move to San Francisco. The code must have told him to move back to New York City. The code must have told him to buy me that diamond ring and propose to me on the internet. The code must have told him to marry me. It’s all making sense now, it is.
I made it until 10:45 am before I had chocolate today. That’s a holidays ‘04 record for me. I don’t think less than half a lo-cal peach pie is gonna kill you. Did you consider finishing the poor bastard off for breakfast?
PIE: the breakfast of [former] champions.
PS: I think your tree is purtee as is.
can we get together next week and make pies? the husbands can talk about nerd stuff while we bake.
Rachel, if you’re serious, I’ll be there with bells and bibs on.
Donald, you’re trying to ruin it for Tucker, ain’t ya?
Rachel – I’ll bring an XBox controller
it’s a date. we’ll be in touch.
who wants to bake me a pie??
We chickened out on the tree figuring 1 cat + 2 spastic, tightly wound kittens = disaster in the making.
I’ll bake you a pie, cracker. Gina, I totally forgot you had kittens. How are they?
gina – disaster is what Christmas is all about!
i’ve always wanted to try a strawberry rhubarb pie
Nothin says Christmas like coming home to a cat up a 8 foot spruce.
Now where’s my pie?
How are you managing NOT to eat a pie every day – you’ve been making a pie every day! I am so impressed. I’ve been thinking of making gingerbread cookies all week. It’s not going to happen by Christmas.
I am trying desperately to make Toby happy as I am a stay at home housewife at the moment. My day consists of the following: Making pies, dinner, cleaning up, doing laundry, writing on my blog, leaving messages on other people’s blogs, shopping, and looking for business so one day toby and I can start our own business and work from our home office. Yeah.
Donald, what type of pie you want? I’m dead serious. :]