Joey has returned from Chicago.  I picked him up last night in a funny role-reversal; sure, I've picked him up from the airport probably twenty times, but they were all in Boston until now.

I am wrapping up my job - though I am clearly done, as they had a meeting this morning and didn't call me to listen in - and preparing our apartment for my parents' imminent visit.  Tonight I will attend a baby shower - a good sign that I do have a life in Toronto, even though baby showers make Jewgirl slightly tweaky.

I think it's more my dread of having to play weird games than actual superstition.  But I wouldn't miss it, because of the guest of honor.

I forgot to mention how incredible the meal I made with the homegrown Thai basil was.  Utterly brag-worthy.  Ground turkey with onions, bell peppers and mushrooms, flavored with fish sauce, lime juice, ginger, garlic, roasted red chili paste, and crushed red chilies, a dash of soy and a tiny squeeze of honey, with the basil wilted in last minute, served over rice.  Swoon.  So close to my beloved gaprow, without bothering to follow a recipe this time because they are never quite right.