Back in the olden days on the farm, back when men labored over the soil and women labored over the stove, they probably ate a lot of Shepherd’s Pie. It turns out that it’s a labor intensive meal. Had I known this, I would’ve waited for a Sunday to make it. What was I thinking? When do I EVER make mashed potatoes? I won’t bore you with the recipe as I’m sure there are a gazillion ways to make it. Let’s just say that it will probably be a couple more years before I do it again. In the meantime, I’ll be able to live off the leftovers for the rest of the winter.
Pierre’s been visiting and it’s truly amazing what two people can do when they make a list, put their minds to it, and get cracking. Take the leaves, for example. I spent a few days pondering the whole situation. Then I spent a few hours raking and managed to clear a nice patch in the backyard. Then I needed to go in and drink tea and look at the new J.Crew catalogue. Pierre, on the other hand, raked all my leaves (not just the big ones that were visible), put the hose to bed, figured out how to dispose of my cement walkway (don’t ask), painted the nightstand in the basement, and cleaned up the fireplace grates. All while I was mashing some taters.