Lindz and I spent the afternoon driving around the area where are house is located. It's exciting; it appears to be a good area with no prisons or artillery practice ranges. Now, it's dinner time.

We are drinking MacMurray pinot noir. Nice- a trifle earthier than the average pinot, with a hint of that desirable cola effervescence.

I am roasting chunks of potato with onion, oil, salt, pepper, and a dash of balsamic vinegar.

I am making focaccia (1/4 whole wheat)

Lindz made slaw (eggless, slightly spicy, light and crunchy)

I'm going to broil some salmon. It's marinating in the style of my great uncle Carl: equal parts bourbon, oil, and soy sauce.