Monday, January 14, 2008

Crusty French Toast

This weekend I decided to make baked French Toast, the kind that you prep the night before. I woke up, dragged myself out of bed, drizzled it with the syrup sauce, and put it in the oven so when we woke up for real there would be delicious French toast waiting for us. It actually was delicious, in the way that toffee, that welds your mouth shut, is delicious.

Plenty of sweetness and flavor, you just need a jackhammer between bites. Bryce said it was good, just a little “carmelly.” This leads me to believe he has a crush on me.

After breakfast we went cross country skiing. (It is similar to regular skiing, minus all of those hills and momentum problems.) Bryce told me it was similar to using an elliptical machine. I thought, “Elliptical machine? Splendid, I am the Imperial-Starship-Boss of elliptical machines!” But don’t be fooled, it is not like an elliptical machine. It is like having gigantic feet and being a snow plow! It was really fun, really a lot more fun that an elliptical machine, but it was tiring! We explored a snowy path and went down a hill a few times. (One of those times gravity caught me unawares and I discovered how impossible it is to stand up when you have giant slippery feet.)

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