Weekend spent blissfully quietly. Have long been leery of squash, possibly because side dish served during childhood consisting of halved acorn squash broiled with a bit of butter and brown sugar. This dish not inherently awful, but can't think of it without stomach giving a quick turn. But for past three weeks have been seeing winter squash at the farmer's market and have become curious about what might be missing. Last night make delicious salad of bitter greens; roasted squash; toasted, salted, chilied pepitas and dressing of shallot, mustard, red wine vinegar and olive oil and serve with roasted pork loin. Dave happy with meal and Jenny extremely jealous, licking her chops throughout. Am cozy and full, and for once have no trouble falling asleep nor staying asleep nor waking up too early, except last dream is set at a lake and involves the Vice-Boss and needing to read confusing spreadsheet that can't because contacts have become the size of dinner plates and won't fit in eyes. (This detail certainly frighteningly Freudian.) Get the Contessa to help me. She has a small monkey clinging to her arm and one sitting on top of her head. Am very scared of both of the monkeys but pretend not to be. The Vice-Boss claps her hands and says Now I need those documents for that meeting in Midtown! Only then do I think--despite much other alarming evidence--Wait a Minute--this is a dream! When do wake up, feel that would much prefer to plan, cook, and eat meal again as day's sole activity.