Basting. I get to look at it. At this point it should look more meat-like and less deadanimalish.
Or just somewhere in between.
But God it smells scrumptious!
Boy: football is on the TV
Girl: music was on the radio
Girl cannot stand it without music, though she loves football, but can't quite put up with the non-cable static version we have.
Music wins at the moment. Thank you Jesus and Bob Dylan.
Mimosas are good. Veggie dish is beautiful, but only people without braces or with braces and a penchant for olives can eat them comfortably. I HATE OLIVES. Olive oil and balsamic dip for bread, on the other hand, I can do.
Informed the only reason football is momentarily off is half-time. But I got to see the make up artists brushing stuff onto the face of the old-man-announcers Terry Bradshaw and Jimmy Johnson. This picture nearly satisfies all resentment toward the noise football makes over the Beatles (on KPRI now!).
Girl goes to make cheese and crackers plate so she can nosh too.
All will be well always. (Sorry Brandon and Oaks... we just heard there's issues on the drive through San Clemente. I'll have a mimosa for you, Oaks. You can't have OJ anyway. Justin and I on the other hand ARE OJ. :) )