I am not a cake fan. I love pie. And now I know that pie is another reason to visit England. (Note – these are pies you eat for dinner, not dessert.)
After holing up like a crazy writerlady all week, I did a truly social thing last night and left my apartment for dinner with friends. We sat out on their deck all evening and watched the fire burning. I love the smell of wood smoke. I didn’t shower when I came home so I could smell the smoke in my hair as I was falling asleep. Now I have to wash my sheets and blankets in addition to my hair.
I’m off to Philly to talk about FEVER 1793 for the Friends of Independence Park. Then I have to buy groceries and clean the apartment. It looks like someone is trying to write a book in here or something. Feh.