It was the Best of Times, It was the Worst of Times...

Such lovely words, as penned by Charles Dickens in the Tale of Two Cities. And that just about sums up my weekend. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times... The tragical thing about my weekends is that they go by so quickly. This past weekend was no exception. And I did enjoy it. It was quietly spent, on account of the snowfall. I engaged in acts of domesticity, and whipped together a delicious batch of apple crunch muffins.

My cooking adventures did not stop there. I next concocted 'stone soup', adding a bit of this and that into a creamy, original recipe. The following day, after I got off work, my dad and I made a simmering pot of piping hot chili - simply perfect for cold winter nights. With all of my baking and time spent in the kitchen, I began to feel like Julia Child. I really do love adding spices and seasonings to dishes, tasting as I go.

On Super Bowl Sunday, I helped my mother make her world famous nine layer Mexican dip. The fresh ingredients make the dip especially tasty. When the Super Bowl finally began, I was more than ready to relax on the comfy couch, wrapped in my warm sweater and cozy blanket. And what a game. Words cannot express my intense disappointment. The Colts let me down. I even wore my Reggie Wayne jersey.

The evening ended on a high note, though, for I would not go to bed in a sorry state. Tonight, I was able to view part of the conclusion of Emma, and I immensely adored the movie's ending. All is well with the world. Jane Austen gives me hope for the possibility of happy endings. And now to bed...