Just a little flatbread in life

Having been laid up for a few days, I finally got in the kitchen last night to fix Leslie and me a bite of dinner.
                           Bless his heart. We say that in the south...'Bless his (or her) heart'.

That's just a type of sentiment. But, I really do have to wish blessings on that man. He took great care of me when I was 'under the influence' so to speak. (a sensitivity to the drugs I had for a tooth extraction).

So, my companion for the last 3 years went shopping for me! Again, I have to say 'bless his heart'. I needed some milk and so he comes in with an armful of grocery bags. As I pull out all these surprises I again appreciate his loving thoughtfulness.

                                            I had once said that I loved flatbread. 

Now, here is a man who is a totally red meat and potatoes kind of guy. And, he's found flatbread in the bread aisle and brought it home to me.

What to do? I've never bought flatbread. I've just eaten it in restaurants, already prepared, and yummy each time. What is in my frig that I can make us a meal?

I found some sausage and fried it up. I chopped up some red and yellow peppers and a chunk of purple onion that I had left over from another dish last week.

I look around the shelves. Oh, there's a jar of spaghetti sauce that I had opened and not used. And, a ripe red tomato. If I only had some fresh basil. Oh well. the dried will have to do. So, I sprinkle a bit on the sauce I had spread around on the bread.

Cheese. This thing needs cheese. Last week I had purchased a bag of shredded colby cheese. Not the kind I'd think would work but you know... it did.

I piled all that mess on top of a slice of flatbread and heated it up in the oven until the cheese was melted.

                       I can't wait until lunch today so that I can finish off our left-overs.

                              Gee, I wonder if I could get away with that for breakfast?