So tomorrow is Independence Day in Brazil. It's not quite the shindig that the 4th of July is for Americans,
I think there might be a parade.
What I'm sure of, though, is that if the sun is out, most of the city will converge on the beaches. As I have yet to don a swimsuit since we moved to the new digs (come on folks, it is WINTER here!), maybe tomorrow will be a good time to do that.
Tomorrow is Kitchen Independence Day for me, as well. When Mr. Bugigangas went to Columbia for the weekend, I cooked a whole, semi-organic chicken. Brined, air-dried and butter/garlicked to perfection. When I'm alone, and writing, I don't care for cooking. Baking is more of my gift to others than properly to myself; it's just not nearly as much fun if you can't enjoy the satisfaction on someone else's face. And I'm not eating in front of a mirror!
So I've been eating cold chicken, which is much tastier than it sounds. And vaguely reminds me of Elizabeth David's "Of Pageants and Picnics" so that I feel slightly cosmopolitan and refined while doing so. (She's a marvel in the world of food writing, by the way, just precious and quirky and quaint. I bought her Italian cookbook to read on a plane once...and it was engrossing!)
There's still quite a lot of bird left, not to mention the leftovers from a ladies brunch we had today, which means I can enjoy an absence of dirty pots and pans and hassle-free meal planning for at least a couple of days. And hopefully, that will translate into three or four more chapters in my novel that is finally, phew, starting to take shape. I really want to have a rough draft that I can bundle up and send to a few trusted friends for reading and critiquing. Hopefully by December at the very latest...
Which means I must stop blogging and get back to work. Now. :)
Happy late Labor Day to you Americans, and happy 7 de Setembro to my Brazil-based readers!