My dog Lucy came up to our bedroom in the dark of night and gave me the sweetest lick. Her tail wagged hard as she aligned her body close to mine. Beaumont was snuggled so tightly to the left that I couldn’t tell where he ended and I started. He was peacefully snoring, happily dreaming of princesses and far off purple kingdoms. Lucy looked so happy with a twinkle in her eye that just screamed I love you. The three of us were intertwined in the bliss of the moment. It truly was serene, though I still had one foot firmly planted in the realm of the sandman. As I laid between these two sleeping beauties I started thinking what had to be done today. I grabbed my phone to see the time and Lisa woke long enough to ask what’s wrong. The problem was it was 3:30 and I was decidedly up. I walked down stairs, made coffee and dragged a comb through my hair. It’s thrown my rhythm off as I attempt to finish the first section of my book and put some assemblance of order to my life. Rather than labor at the keyboard slightly buzzed on yesterday’s wine I decided to shoot tomorrow’s side dish, Claude Monet’s stuffed onions. I have been reading Monet’s cooking journals and came across his recipe for ‘Oignons blanc farcis’, stuffed white onions. Something about the classic simplicity struck me. Have these with a great glass of wine and a green salad!
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