Fajitas on Rice

Finally, a post about food!

We’re having nasty weather yet again.  The sky is spitting snow, there’s a blizzard advisory and we’re on the border of it but I’m really hoping we won’t get anything.  They keep on telling us yet more snow is coming and making the forecast for the coming days worse then change it all the next hour.  Thanks to having taken multiple classes on weather, I understand the constant flip-flops but I really wish they wouldn’t do it.  I wish someone had strangled that groundhog, cause I’m sick of snow!  God is laughing at me because I wanted to move to Asheville in part because it rarely got snow. Supposedly.

Today was proving to be a busy day thanks to doing taxes and writing the mailer.  I am behind on menu planning for this coming week and I do my shopping at the end of the week, so I drug out the crock-pot and threw this together from what I had on hand with the big London broil in my fridge, in between conversations about how I understand what the cat is saying when he meows and the proper way to write a “W.”  I often have clients complain when I don’t give exact measurements, but the fact is that I most often measure many things in the palm of my hand or not at all. The only thing I typically measure is when I bake so I don’t turn out little brick loaves.  Otherwise I go on intuition and proportion since I usually cook in a hurry and have at least one of two short folk giving me a stream of consciousness in monologue or diatribe form while I work statuesque with the old-man cat wrapped around my feet.  Thanks to the motorized, heat-seeking Croc accessory, I rarely move while cooking once I plant my feet well enough for him to adhere to me.  I’m really good at leaning and reaching.

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