Tage has lately developed a love of the outdoors and he wants to spend nearly every waking minute out there. He throws a hysterical, screaming fit whenever we make him come inside, no matter how long he’s been out or how cold it is out there. I’m reminded of why I sometimes hated taking Lydia to the park when she was little: it was fun while it lasted, but the trauma of leaving seemed to outweigh the joy of being there. In the spirit of compromise I have been letting him play out on the balcony during the daytime, but it gets pretty cold in the house if he leaves the door open for too long. I think there is no solution that will please all of us, unfortunately.

I had yet another dinner disaster this evening, thanks to that rat bastard Ted from Queer Eye (it can’t have been my fault, of course). We watched an episode last night in which he instructed a figure-skating straight guy in the art of ravioli-making. Olof asked if I could make something like that and it looked fairly easy, so I agreed to give it a shot. Long story short, I was less than successful. I won’t go into the details, and I do know what I can do to make it better next time, but it was a disappointment nonetheless. I told Olof that I think I’m in danger of believing my own press (I am the resident cooking expert at Mosaic Minds, you know), and that perhaps I shouldn’t be so cocky when it comes to kitchen matters. I did make a great loaf of banana bread this afternoon, though, so all was not lost (and my long-held conviction that I am a much better baker than a cook was once again reinforced).

I guess that’s all for today … besides, there’s a carton of tiramisú ice cream calling my name and I’d best not keep it waiting too long.