Compost salad, Matt Bai and Nate Silver tonight, funny memory

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This is, quite possibly, the largest compost salad I've ever created. Hell's bells! I'm not sure I can conquer it, but I'm committed to trying. T and I are going to that Political Calculus, Political Times talk tonight with Nate Silver and Matt Bai, and as we need to leave just before 6, I'm not sure I can bring myself to eat dinner beforehand. While I'm not a real late eater like the Euro folks, neither can I stomach the idea of dinner at 5. I have an almost complete aversion to it really, kinda like my thoughts about buffets. So anyway, I'm anticipating a later dinner after the talk and think this salad might do the job of carrying me through. I was just looking at Christmas ornaments in a pretty catalog and saw one that pictured a Norman Rockwell scene. Immediately, I was reminded of a college-look trip my Mom and I went on many years ago; we were near Stockbridge, MA, and so decided to visit the Normal Rockwell Museum while there. It was sometime in March or April and there were some basic Easter decorations up. As the guide walked us through the rooms of paintings, we passed a small, tabletop faux tree filled with hanging Easter eggs. In the midst of Rockwell's wonderful pieces, a member of our group pointed to this chintzy little tree and asked with all sincerity, "did Norman create this too?"  True story folks. I thought my mom and I were going to fall out and have to leave the tour, but we did a masterful -as far as I recall- job keeping our snickering relatively internal. It's funny what sticks with you, isn't it.

Throw-together pasta when foiled by take-out plans

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Made it home, got the boys in bed, and plopped down in PJs, in full agreement with T that take-out might be a good option tonight. We got excited for Indian, made our selections, called and found they were too busy tonight to deliver. Mamma mia. Back to the drawing board. Rummaging commenced, and I found some whole wheat orecchiete, an on-its-way-to-sad bunch of lacinato kale, a shallot, and some lovely chanterelles I'd forgotten I'd recently bought. Not wanting to go the more assumed path of mascarpone (not least because I didn't have it) and/or super-savory, I decided to go earthy and sweet with a solid tablespoon of fresh tarragon + a dash of cinnamon and red pepper at the end. Lots of parm, a smashed clove of garlic. Voila. Not awesome, but not bad and quite solid for an improv dinner. Only bummer is that I microplaned my hand and arm while getting jiggy with the Parm. It's actually a little gross, what with 8 distinct skin squares missing. Please give your microplane the respect it's due.

Funny boys story of the day: We're on the way home, Oliver has spied a spotlight in the dark night sky and is transfixed, and Jack is kinda looking/kinda doing his own thing. I say, "I love you boys so much; you are such wonderful children." Jack says, "I love you more," and O says, "I love you spotlight." I cannot even tell you how typical and illuminating of their personalities this brief exchange was.