In the never-ending series of weird things I do in my sleep, here’s last night’s installment:

I woke up (or half-woke up, or entered that quasi-conscious state I call sleepwalking) absolutely convinced that the blankets on our bed were involved in Reagan-era arms-for-hostages controversy. I needed to shake the blankets out and re-tuck myself ASAP, or the weapons would destroy us. Denny was being all cuddly, and I couldn’t get the blankets shaken off as fast as I wanted to, and I’m afraid I was kind of rude to him. I said (or at least thought; I’m not sure whether I vocalized or not), “Get off me. I need to get the weapons off the bed. It’s for the hostages!”

You’d think as a 9-year-old I would have been traumatized by more normal things, like the cancelation of Punky Brewster. But I guess that’s not what made it into my psyche.

The chicken tikka masala, which will will be the subject of my first post to the Fit Fare blog later this month, turned out pretty well. I wasn’t wild about the sauce; it had a lot of paprika in it, which gave it kind of an earthy quality that I’m not sure matched perfectly with the other spices. Maybe I should have used Spanish hot paprika instead of Hungarian sweet paprika. But it was still pretty good, and I will surely eat the leftovers ths weekend.

Here’s Denny’s picture post.