Confession
So far, my wildly risque Friday night has consisted of going out for barbecue (where we...*gasp*...stayed 20 minutes after the restaurant had closed), then coming home to reorganize the flour and sugar bins in my kitchen. I reclaimed so much space that I devoted an entire tin to peripheral coffees (the main stash lives in a cabinet).
This is a) sadly domestic, b) frightfully indicative of my newfound zeal for organization, and c) indirect, yet a propos commentary on the copious quantities of stuff in my kitchen. None of which are observations I should probably be advertising to the Internet at large.
Ah, well.
This is a) sadly domestic, b) frightfully indicative of my newfound zeal for organization, and c) indirect, yet a propos commentary on the copious quantities of stuff in my kitchen. None of which are observations I should probably be advertising to the Internet at large.
Ah, well.