[1]
It’s the end of a busy work week, and I’m thinking about dinner. At least for tonight, I’ve reached a saturation point with the takeout places in the neighborhood. And there’s nothing that’s calling to me from the freezer. Part of the pleasure of living alone is that I might just cobble together a meal of olives, cashews, and a hunk of cheese and crackers. And who could stop me. What’s on your table when no one’s looking?
Knitted comfort food by Jessica Dance [1]