restoration.

I'm slightly wasted. Rob is snoozing in a chair on the patio. It's all good.

Friday was an epically horrible day at work. The worst I've had in many years (probably dating back to my awful tenure with I.D.).

An ordinary Friday devolved into a fire-drill that had all of us scrambling and feeling pretty crabby about it. But we rose to the occasion (as we HOWgirls do), and (fingers crossed) it's looking like the problem is working itself out.

So when I pulled into the driveway (well later than I'd anticipated) on Friday night, in spite of my internal declarations that I wouldn't, I broke into tears. Rob, too, had had a rough week at work in a similarly corporate bullshit sort of way. We laced up our shoes, put Wrigley's lead on, and took a walk to clear our heads.

And so here we are, 24 hours later, feeling better. Today was a gorgeous late-summer day. A fine trip to the market (where Wrigley greeted all his fans) was followed by a productive day of inside and outside chores. That, plus better news on the work front (gotta love calls from the new boss on a Saturday) and, most important, an amazing dinner, have us all feeling better.

I think this house is protected by a Protego Totalum charm. In the Harry Potter series, the Protego Totalum charm keeps a dwelling safe from outside harm or influence; it's the charm that keeps the Weasleys' house safe and snug (it's called, fittingly, The Burrow). Our Protego charm encompasses our entire yard and home; once you cross into the driveway or step into the yard, you're safe. I can literally feel its effects.

And so, after we took a mind-clearing walk Friday evening, we crossed that threshold and were immediately under the charm. And noticeably, if gradually, the spell is working its magic and we're feeling happy and satisfied and safe.

Of course, a bottle of Rafanelli zinfandel, a pair of grilled filets and a batch of fried green tomatoes do nothing to kill the mood. Here it is at nearly 10:00 p.m., a day before the fall equinox, and the candlelight, wine, sleeping boys (both of them) and music make me feel like nothing—absolutely NOTHING—outside our Protego charm ... means shit.

thanks, ike.

Holy falling tree limbs, Batman! What's left of Hurricane Ike (and there was a LOT left in Ike's tank) blew through Cincinnati yesterday afternoon. We had about 4 hours of sustained tropical storm-force winds (gusts were recorded above 75 miles per hour). There's a remarkable number of trees, debris and power lines down in our neighborhood; streets are closed and traffic signals are out. We lost power at 2 p.m. Sunday and it just popped back on about 10:00 this morning; apparently, 90% of homes and businesses in the city lost power. I'm at home today, as work is still without power and closed. (Snow day!!!)

The wind velocity yesterday was eerie. The huge trees in our neighborhood shook and swayed like we couldn't believe. After we lost power, the house got really warm, so we sat on the side porch and watched the massive oaks across the street rattle to their cores. I'm surprised the big lodge-pole pine on the corner opposite our house is still standing (I raked bagfuls of its needles out of the front yard this morning).

Here's what's weird: Rob and I figure Wrigley knew the storm was coming before it hit. He was unusually clingy yesterday, and he begged not to be left behind when Rob and I both left around noon. I hopped in the shower just as the wind started to kick up around 1 p.m. yesterday; when I got out, I found Wrigley in our bedroom closet -- the front door had blown open and it startled him so much he went into hiding.

We made the most of it: We grilled dinner and then dined on the side porch, drank a bit too much wine, listened to sports on the transistor radio, went to bed early. Wrigley and I went for a long walk and then discovered that the coffee shop just up the road was one of the very few businesses in this area that had power. They were packed.

Naturally, the local TV news has already branded this "Blackout 2008." I'll have to get the T-shirt.

it's not really soup weather.

Except that it is. I scoped out a recipe for Late Summer Minestrone as I was perusing the NYTimes.com Wednesday food section, and it sort of begged to be made this weekend. So I did. A few minutes' worth of chopping (including our own beans and tomatoes), a few minutes' worth of simmering ... and voila. We won't have this for dinner for another night or two -- soup always needs time to develop. I'll put a bunch of it into the freezer; it'll be amazing come January.

dinner with doofus.

I spent most of the past week in Chicago, hosting-slash-attending a HOW conference for freelancers. It was the first event we've done for this group, and by all accounts a home run.

Friday after the conference wrapped, Bill picked me up and we spent a fun weekend together. He introduced me to Algerian crepes and to Vietnamese food that afternoon and evening, and then we hit a neighborhood spot Saturday morning for brunch. The place bills itself as featuring coastal southern cuisine, and it was all grits-and-gravy goodness.

We hit two (count 'em) farmers markets on Saturday morning and stocked up on items for an all-veggie dinner: a rainbow's worth of cherry tomatoes, some fingerling potatoes, some local broccoli, arugula, goat cheese, beets, bread ...