Rosemary Rolls

A small breakfast of two hard boiled eggs, quartered and sprinkled with salt and black pepper, apple slices and a buttered rosemary roll fresh from the oven sits deliciously in my tummy right now. Gatsby is yelling "ham!" at the top of his little kitty lungs, but alas I do not have any for him. I've created a monster by treating the ancient beast to tid bits from every people food snack I make. He got a brushing this morning with gardenia scented lotion on his brush so I suppose I could give him some ham for enduring such torture. I am sure there will be plenty of people snacks for him later as my Chef prepares tonight's repast. We spent the morning sprucing up the house (and the cats) in anticipation of a houseful of guests for a dinner party.

I am looking forward to the event because it will be delicious, a good mix of friends and family and most importantly because it will really make our home feel good. I think, from my experiences, that a house is not a home until you have entertained guests. Now I know that this particular house has hosted many a guest over many years, but never has it been home to our friends mixed together hosted by a concept called "us" in a space called "ours". This has made for some interesting negotiations and experimentation with wording, space and acceptance. I have made rosemary rolls since baking bread is one thing he doesn't do. I'm in charge of aesthetics even though we've butted heads on couch placement, dinning table angle, buffet location and glassware. Sigh... when two homebodies with strong personalities and a penchant for stubbornness try to arrange furniture there are bound to be a few minor conflicts. I'm not keeping score, ahem, but I think I am up one on interiors. I'm sure I'll get overthrown on something else before the day is out, however.

Ok, Chef A just arrived with the loot and it is time to start setting the table and laying out the glassware. Toodles.