Nebraska soil is once again under our feet. We arrived home safely and I started our traditional Sunday night pizza while Joe unloaded the pickup and Tarka wandered around sniffing everything just to make sure she was still queen of the hill. Sterling was meowing his little head off wanting to go terrorize small rodents, insects and birds outside, but he was shocked to find out that it was 20 degrees colder on his little kitty feet than the last time he was out on Wednesday and soon came back in to curl up with Tarka to warm up.
The crust had risen, the pepperoni slices were weighed out, the five cheeses were grated and mounded up to be strewn about on the hand tossed crust and I am staring at the pizza wondering what is wrong with the picture. . .oh, yeah. . .I forgot to make sauce! That is my Sunday morning job and when I would normally have been measuring out vino, herbs and tomatoes, I was viewing beautiful fall scenery in Minnesota. Oops! So the sauce came right out of the can with a modest shake of herbs and garlic powder (oh no! say it isn't so!) . . .not bad for an emergency, but not something to brag about. . .still shaking my head about how I could forget sauce. . .
Our thoughts and prayers are with all of you in Spumoni South for safety. . .