13 Minutes 'til Lunch

Last weekend we were out doing errands all morning, including a quick stop at the grocery store. As I was hopping out of the car to run inside, S proclaimed he was starving and was going to die if he didn't eat soon. In other words he wanted chicken fingers from the prepared foods display that's placed directly in front of the store entrance. Point taken.

However, even closer to the door than the packages of hot fried chicken parts was an icebox filled with frozen-ish pizzas, on special 'cause of the afternoon's football game. I don't think I've ever bought a frozen pizza before, but S had also just mentioned he could "eat that entire pizza" as we drove past some guy walking to his car with a pizza in his hand, so I bought the pizza. Should I write that down in my diary? December something-or-other 2011 I was tired enough and so uninspired to cook that I bought a frozen pizza?

This post really isn't about a frozen pizza though. It's about the 13 minutes it took to cook that frozen pizza. Despite being so near-death at the grocery store, when told he had 13 minutes 'til lunch, S pulled out a bucket, shovel and level and went to work re-setting the front steps to the shed.
He moved the three large pieces of blue stone we put there during our patio project this fall, dug a little brick-width trench around the perimeter of  the steps, lay a row of bricks in the little trench and then leveled the bricks and all the dirt in between them.
He plopped the three big pieces of blue stone back in place and adjusted a little bit of dirt.
Then came inside to eat his pizza...cooked for 13 minutes and cooled for five. Per the instructions on the cardboard box.
And that's what you can do when you have 13 minutes 'til lunch.

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