Puzzle o' cards, pretzel light sabers, quiet

That's how I felt yesterday- bent to the point of breaking, and I dare say I shed as many tears as would have suggested that. Thank you to the shoulder on which I wept, to the dear friend who brought my oldest home and for those who asked, nodded and kept going. Y'all are pals. There is a reason sleep deprivation is torture. It really is, and while I can handle it for a while, a few days off no sleep-all parenting is enough to slay the heartiest of us. As such, it was an absolute joy to A) take a full Ambien at 8:30p last night, and B) bring both children to school this morning. Yee-howdy!

Since then I've been on a major spring cleaning purge even though I do see some seriously low temps forecasted for the week ahead. I'm ignoring you "low of 25" on Thursday night and "lows in the 20s" next week. We're going to CA soon enough and you'd best be gone when we return. Anyway, interior spring cleaning has commenced. Not least because yesterday I wrapped up Playing Cards:

This was a good one- hard enough to keep things interesting and draw it all out for a while but not so difficult (hello, body of Hedwig in one of J's Harry Potter puzzles) that you want to scream and run out of the room.

After I finish just a few more tasks, I am going to temper some chocolate and then dip pretzel rods into it for the start of my pretzel Light Sabers for Ol's birthday. White sugar pearls will have to suffice for the buttons because where are all the silver candy balls of my childhood? Were those found to be just too toxic? It's possible. I am fully aware that no one needs pretzel light sabers and that in all actuality I should go read a book or something. Oh well, not me.

Tart recipe posted, "this day"

Ol always says "this day" and "next day" which I love and hence the title. This day was just that: a day. A less than stellar one, a tired one at that (more up-all-night'ness last night; fever; sick; yuk) but a regular old day really. I don't even know my name anymore but the kids are in bed and T and I are cooking dinner together which is lovely:  grilled lime chicken; the Brussels sprouts; roasted carrots. Simple but it'll be good. And, I've a lovely glass o' tequila which I super-deserve. Quick note that last night's magnificent tart recipe is now posted in Entrees as Caramelized Shallot, Cabbage and Tasso Tart. Fab.

Oliver'ism of the day for your pleasure: 5:45am, in our bed. Ol is coughing and we're out of children's Mucinex (worst name ever by the way). T and I are wondering aloud if the CVS down the street is open yet, and Ol pipes in with "I think it is because when we went out looking for pinecones that morning, it was open."

Erm, reference being the morning last September when they snuck out in all manner of weird outfit, ostensibly to look for pinecones, and were returned to us by the FBI at roughly 6:20am. CVS does open at 6am so Ol's recollection checks out. Not sure whether to be proud or not. Keen observation skills? Check. Humor? To be sure.

Did y'all see Taran Killam's impersonation of Matthew McConaughey on SNL last night? Flipping hiLARious!!!!

Amazing tart, literally exhausted

This is not the sort of dish that photographs well inside at night. For starters, I had to use my flash, and secondly, its color scheme is fairly lacking. That said, this tart was one of the most delicious things I've made in a while. Or "in a while" that I can remember.

I am so unbelievably zonko tired tonight. Ol and I slept in the basement together last night and were up for hours at a time, twice. He threw up all over me once though during our second visit to puke city he made it square into the toilet, gripping the rims like a frat champ. I loved the between heaves, he railed against the gross indignity that is puking. Agreed, Mr. O, agreed.

We shared sweet nothings throughout our slumber party, and honestly, he is the best combination of sweet, charming and truly funny. Jack is too but in a different way. I'm a lucky mama. Remind me of this when I want to jump off the roof. My favorite Oliverism came before bedtime though. I was doing the puzzle, Jack was playing Minion Rush and Ol was pitiful on the couch behind me. Percy was moaning and wailing about some sound that only he could hear (I know that literally that's probably true but it doesn't stop it from being damn annoying), and I said in a silly accent, "Percy, I wanna kill ya." Jack said, in an even sillier accent, "But we don't have any wea-o-pons." About thirty seconds later Ol says, in his regular voice, "Don't we have an axe?"

WTF, people? If it weren't hilarious it'd be marginally terrifying. Since I once caught him facedown on the sidewalk attempting to kiss an ant, I'm not remotely concerned. More I really appreciate his quick wit in the midst of soaring fever. Jack and I about fell out.

Back to the tart. Tom took the kids to his parents' house today at the very moment I started to implode from lack of sleep and lots of talking. Having frozen my lower back into a ridiculously taut seize, I took myself to the gym to stretch. Then I had to do some cleaning and finally I went to the market. While there it occurred to me that I simply must make a savory tart for dinner. Yesterday I was overtaken by a yen for caramelized shallots so those two desires laid the foundation for what would become tonight's tart.

My favorite crust (Molly Wizenberg's), the caramelized shallots (Nancy Silverton's), cubed tasso (from EcoFriendly foods), caramelized Savoy cabbage, goat cheese and an egg-milk custard made for a truly remarkable dinner. I'll write up the recipe tomorrow as I'm gleefully going to bed NOW, at 8:32pm.