Guilty pleasure. Music and Pizza.

I woke up exhausted this morning. 1400miles driven this week and a couple of big issues at work have left me pooped. I had wanted to get a long run in today but I just couldn't find the va-va-voom.   A quick mission round town this morning to get the motorbike trailer tyre fixed, pick up some compost for the pots and plant them up with youngest daughter... A 2 year old planting things is like a pig in muck. I guess thats why I still enjoy it! Eldest daughter has her dance exam tomorrow so she has to head to a practise today. This means I get 3 hours in the house, a quiet house. On with my old manky headphones that the foam has gone on, hit shuffle on one playlist and let James, Eminem, Metallica, Linkin Park and the Fray flood into my ears whilst I enjoy an olfactory assault. My guilty pleasure as a foody is really good pizza, ideally from the amazing Pizzeria behind the Wynnstay Hotel in Machynlleth, but as I'm sat here to my right I have a bowl of pizza dough proving and to my left a pan with tomato sauce reducing down. Eldest daughter was quite specific about her toppings, Salami, Mozzarella and Pineapple. I can suffer that. A quiet house means that moving from the fridge to the stove, or from the chopping board to the sink takes on slightly more movement than the rest of the family thinks is normal. Head bobbing, foot tapping, arm waving, the occasional spin, stirring, tasting, wiping down. Wiping down the worktop but wiping down the week too. Maybe it’s that man provider thing, but making a meal that gets someone to say “Yum” is a great feeling. Given the Italian theme-esegui domani!  
I woke up exhausted this morning. 1400miles driven this week and a couple of big issues at work have left me pooped. I had wanted to get a long run in today but I just couldn’t find the va-va-voom.   A quick mission round town this morning to get the motorbike trailer tyre fixed, pick up some compost for the pots and plant them up with youngest daughter… A 2 year old planting things is like a pig in muck. I guess thats why I still enjoy it! Eldest daughter has her dance exam tomorrow so she has to head to a practise today. This means I get 3 hours in the house, a quiet house. On with my old manky headphones that the foam has gone on, hit shuffle on one playlist and let James, Eminem, Metallica, Linkin Park and the Fray flood into my ears whilst I enjoy an olfactory assault. My guilty pleasure as a foody is really good pizza, ideally from the amazing Pizzeria behind the Wynnstay Hotel in Machynlleth, but as I’m sat here to my right I have a bowl of pizza dough proving and to my left a pan with tomato sauce reducing down. Eldest daughter was quite specific about her toppings, Salami, Mozzarella and Pineapple. I can suffer that. A quiet house means that moving from the fridge to the stove, or from the chopping board to the sink takes on slightly more movement than the rest of the family thinks is normal. Head bobbing, foot tapping, arm waving, the occasional spin, stirring, tasting, wiping down. Wiping down the worktop but wiping down the week too. Maybe it’s that man provider thing, but making a meal that gets someone to say “Yum” is a great feeling. Given the Italian theme-esegui domani!  

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