The Rice, the Bat, the Baby

Proving the pleasures that the brief summer yields

This morning I removed a bloodthirsty bat clinging to the curtain in the family room and saved my wife and daughter from an eternity of undeath. And this evening I am making risotto, which my wife loves and says is superior to any found in restaurants, the Van Gogh Sunflowers of risotto. This is the life of a man who knows grandeur. I simmer the chopped onions and fennel in a pool of butter and shave Parmesan into a bowl while my clients sit on the front steps, enjoying the last of summer in St. Paul, watching people stroll past, waiting...

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