I fell into the abyss of summer.
Listen up, y’all. I have something important to say. Just because it’s Sunday and you’re all alone, that doesn’t mean you can’t make yourself a Sunday night feast. And just because it’s 90 degrees and brutal outside, that doesn’t mean your feast can’t include a roast chicken. I won’t let any of that stop me. No way, no how. Either way I’m roasting a chicken. (You can expect this to be the title of my first memoir.)