Catching up on some posts here. A couple of weeks back I drove to work. For most people this is an everyday occurence but when you are in a vanpool it becomes more of an event. I drove in an attempt to leave early to make the Kettle Bells Training session that my teammates do on Thursday nights. Long story short, I left work at 4:40, texted Kate at 5:30 that I wouldn’t be making it to KBs, and finally got home at 6:35. Yes. Two hours I was in traffic. It’s painful, but I think especially painful when one has become accustomed of the heavenly HOV lane.

Anyway, I tell you all this to report that the husband had made pizza that night. By the time I got home, though, it was sliced up and in foil in the fridge. Just now I noticed he took pics before slicing it. Sweet!

Fresh tomatoes and mozzarella; sauteed onions, bits of proscuitto with an olive-oil base. Everybody knows that the sign of a good pizza is when it tastes better cold. This tasted pretty darn good cold, so I can only guess that it was frikkin’ amazing out of the oven. Sigh.