We all know: It frickin' snowed this weekend.
Happily I did not have to leave my house. My roommate, aka the Master Baker, prepared a splendid meal from the winter menu of his Italian cookbook. He cooked an entire chicken, bless his heart (both my roommate's and the chicken's hearts). So the scent of chicken roasting in rosemary and of homemade barley soup stewing suffused my house.
The scent, the snow, the rotten cold I had--it felt like the holidays. I almost felt the need to give an inspired agnostic prayer before digging in. Here was our lovely meal:
Afterward, I convinced Robbie and DCD to pose for photos that I could use for a drug rehab organization's annual report I was designing. They hammed it up even though I'm making the photos into silhouettes.
behind the scenes at the photo shoot:
photographer attacks model.