Not that Anne Hathaway! Shakespeare's wife died August 6, 1623. She was eight years older than her husband and is the subject of some rather dull scholarship.
Haven't updated in many moments because A. and I have been doing some moving around. We were in the Okanagan at A.'s friend's family's orchard last weekend. Their pet turtle, Turtle, fed on little fish until he finally let one grow up. Now Turtle has a constant companion and make-out partner in Fish. (Literary response forthcoming.) We are house-sitting for another of A.'s friends. A recent night, a raccoon knocked down a window screen, sauntered downstairs to eat all the cat food, ripped open a bag of cat food and dragged it back upstairs and out the window. (Pest control response probably, unfortunately, forthcoming.)
The above meal is lentils with grapeseed oil and lemon, pepperoncini, and fried onions, rice, and kale.
In A.'s hand is a cookie I've forgotten the name of. It's Italian. 4-5 c. water mixed with 1 c. olive oil, 1 c. white wine (careful, vegans), 1 c. sugar, and 2 Tbsp. anise seeds. Can't remember the name of the cookbook that recipe comes out of.
Yesterday's lunch, above. Rice cooked with Earth Balance spread and a clove of garlic (minced); cauliflower, black beans, and little Roma tomatoes cooked with cumin, cayenne, Montreal steak spice, two cloves of garlic, (minced, sliced), and lime juice; Tofutti sour cream; lime slice.
Last night we went to dinner at Paradise Vegetarian Noodle House in Burnaby. It was noise-making good. The fake meats are incredible, as are the stuffed eggplant and spring rolls. And you can watch Supreme Master TV to your heart's content.
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