Letters from Florence, part 5

9-15-2018 9:38 p.m.

Dearest,

It’s too soon for cabin fever to rear its ugly head and yet I find myself getting annoyed at small things.

The co-captain washed his hands in the sink and instead of immediately grabbing a towel, first chose to fling water off himself.

“You got your hand-water in my socca batter,” I said, stirring a bowl of goo about to go into a hot skillet.

(Ok, look, here is where I dispense the whole old-timey “civil war letters” language because my eyes are so dry and I’m too sleepy to keep it going.)

You may ask me, what in the world is socca batter?

I will tell you it’s a flatbread made of chickpeas & olive oil and and it satisfies the baking anxiety without sugar or simple carbs.

Why would I punish my face with such a thing, you may ask.

You see, when you wake up on day two of being a storm shut in, you may make the hilarious and adorable decision to return to your semi-paleo lifestyle. Also, socca is delicious.

What is the recipe? Oh no. Not now. I cannot write numbers at the moment. Also I am not a food writer.

I am also not one of those people who will make you skim through a folksy anecdote about someone’s rough day at Whole Foods, turning a simple recipe search into the internet equivalent of a Rite-Aid receipt. So I’m not going to post the recipe in this update.

But maybe later. I’m feeling a little too Jack Torrence about things right now.

Also, another thing happened, and you might not believe this, but we’re not a very shout-y family. We also have four very different taste in TV shows and only one TV. Here is a full list of shows we all agree on:

Baking shows.

Home makeover shows

Honorable mention goes to real estate shows but for some irrational reason I can’t fathom, these make me a little sad.

Our choice tonight was Fix It & Finish It, in which they made over a backyard with a pergola. Our very astute eldest son — who is extremely well versed at DIY shows — said, “they didn’t stain it? What is wrong with them?”

Me: “Maybe it’s pressure treated.”

To which the co-captain replies, “it’s cedar.”

Friends, do you have anyone in your life whom you love very much who answers questions in this manner? And by this manner, I mean leaves out whole wide swaths of information that I am assumed to have already known coming in to this conversation?

The following ensued:

Me: “So?”

Him: “It’s cedar.”

Me: “And?”

Him: “C-e-d-a-r..”

Me: “And it’s not finished.”

Him: “It’s cedar.”

Me: “WHY ARE TOU TORTURING ME.”

Him: “Cedar doesn’t need pressure treating.”

Me: *throwing a plate of socca* “THEN YOU SHOULD LEAD WITH THAT.”

I just don’t know why everyone is looking at me like *I’m* the crazy one.

Will contact you again soon. I have to go talk to these creepy little twin girls standing at the end of the hallway and see what they want.

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