The past few days in DC have been the kind of beautiful that makes you think you've hit the climatic jackpot by living here. DC was settled on a swamp? You couldn't make someone believe that right now (except for the mosquitos which never stop swarming). Blue skies, cool nights, seemingly no humidity, sunshine; hell, the city even smells good. After the intense heat of July and then the 100+ sauna that was everyday I was in Louisiana, this has been an incredible respite. I've been a neglectful gardener this summer: I gave into the white fly attack in my greens bed and finally just ripped them out and tossed them into the compost; my tomatoes look unbelievably scraggly though that's really more a function of approaching the end of their season; the grass is threadbare as if it's an old duvet on its very last leg; the flowers have given up; the hostas and astilbe called it quits weeks ago.

But today, the rejuvenating cool lingering into the afternoon, I decided to get back out there. After yoga (such a flipping godsend), I stopped by the nursery for some herb replacements and a trunk-full of pretty annuals from the sale table: the yard deserved some bling. We all headed outside for a team effort at cleaning and tending, and I got the superb idea to remove all the plants AND bulbs from my largest bed, till/fertilize/condition the soil and then replant everything in a prettier fashion. The bed encircles our enormous Sugar Maple and so needs extra love because the Maple is a selfish, ravenous beast.

This was a really BIG job but I had a definite deadline: we are hosting a playdate for some new PK students tomorrow and so I felt pressure to finish. Oh.my.lord. I completed the job but it took hours and afterwards I had Oliver apply menthol rub to my tired back. A great sense of accomplishment shines through the fatigue though, and I look forward to enjoying a large glass of cold white wine tonight.

The boys and I took a break midway through for cones of the s'mores ice cream I finished up this morning. It is sublime.

As I didn't read the short ribs recipe in advance yesterday, I found, when I commenced at 6:15p, that total cook time was to be nearly 3½ hours. Oops. We decided to pretend we were in Europe, have a few drinks, eat the salad early on. Though I feel a bit vague today (another oops), giving the salad its own turn as star was a fortuitous thing because it was spectacular; another hit from my Hugh Acheson cookbook, A New Turn in the South. The tragedy is that all my pictures came out slightly blurry and do not in any way do the salad justice. However, you can trust me when I say that it was superb and I bought more feta today so as to have round 2 tonight. The arugula's pepperiness and the serrano's kick were awesome contrasts to the watermelon's crunch and sweet juiciness and then feta's creaminess. Perfection.

The boys and I were sad to say goodbye to my Mom earlier, but fortunately, Oliver seems to be on the mend. Please, please, Gods of Health, do not vex my home anymore for at least a month or two. We have dealt with all manner of plague and ail, and I'm done! After a successful quiet time, we decided to make the S'mores Ice Cream recipe I saved a few weeks back. We've just broiled the marshmallow-covered grahams and covered them with chocolate; they're now in the freezer and once solid, we'll chop them into rough chunks which will ultimately be stirred into the burned marshmallow ice cream base. Awesome, right?!