Sunday we didn't do anything. I'm writing about our days of nothing because even in an empty day we are full. Tolga will go to the field tomorrow - so we rested today at home, all together. I slept. We played.
I made eggplant parmigiana for dinner. I read a recipe, and then I didn't follow it at all ... more out of laziness rather than creativity. I quasi-fried/boiled some eggplant, then fried some meat and onions and tomato paste in another pan, added some tomato rind, pulled out a casserole dish and layered the ingredients in. I grated some cheese that was close to parmesan, found some bread crumbs, and baked.
My oldest brother Seth called us. He had forgotten we had a baby because they were so busy and my sister-in-law had been so sick, and they had eleven puppies. His life is always full of activities and promises. That said, I always miss him and his wife Libby - and ironically, they are the most present people I talk with . . . when I can talk to them - which will often be months in-between.
And even though we didn't do a whole lot today, I still fell into bed very very tired, and in bad need of a shower.
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