Tag: baking!

The Luck in Action

What went before ONE: Well, that was more excitement than I wanted from lunch.

First, I spilled almost an entire box of elbow macaroni over the kitchen floor — I always try to catch things. Often I do catch them. Even more often, the result is worse than if I had just let whatever it is fall.

Rook came rushing to the scene of the catastrophe, looked at the mess, looked up me (“Mom. What the Hell?”), then assisted in clean-up by finding the macaronis that had taken cover under the cabinets, and smacking at least one to its Forever Home under the stove.

Eventually, I got back to the cooking part of the process, and it was lunch, and I even have leftovers for lunch-in-future.

Rook’s been practicing taking selfies:

 

 

 

 

What went before TWO: Well. A Compleat Change of Plan.

I did get some writing done, but after lunch, I noticed that my back hurt, and my hips hurt, and my knees hurt, and — you get the picture, I’m sure. So! I took a couple aspirin (I’m holding on to the High Test until I’m sure I have a doctor who can prescribe more, OR until aspirin doesn’t do the trick), and then I — wait for it — took a nap.

Woke up somewhat less achy, approached the keyboard, and remembered that today’s shopping trip to the freezer had Revealed An Error.

I was out of blueberry muffins.

Clearly, that situation could not stand, and a batch of blueberry muffins is finishing up baking as I type this.

Next, I need to go back down to the basement to see if I still have blueberries. Which tangentially reminds me that I ought to be making a grocery list. (EDITED TO ADD: I have blueberries.)

So! Minor amounts of writing completed today.

Here, have a snippet: “No, Bechimo had accepted Theo Waitley as captain, and there was nothing that could induce one of Korval, be she kin or be she clan, to relinquish a ship that was in her hand. She had been adamantine, had Captain Waitley, and admitted no error – which had only made him more determined to reft the ship from her.”

Oh.  The muffins are out:

 

 

 

 

Monday. Glary, damp and coolish. Windows are open in my office.

Breakfast was . . . different from planned, due to the fact that the cottage cheese appeared to have Mystery Inclusions. So! instead of half a blueberry muffin with a side of cottage cheese, I had half a blueberry muffin with cream cheese. Lunch is likely be a sweet potato, since I’m not feeling All That ambitious.

I hereby report an Instance of the Lee-Miller Sloppy Luck. I had cut two roses off the new bush two days ago, and put them in a bud vase on the dining room table, where they remained, undisturbed and cheery, until!

. . .I’m guessing last night. Maybe early this morning. A Person Unknown — *cough* Tali *cough* — knocked the bud vase over onto a pile consisting of a SanDisk mp3 player attached to a pair of headphones, which was sitting on the case (closed) of another pair of headphones, which was next to a large book.

Reader, most of the water was still in the vase. The mp3 player was slightly damp, but is working. Both sets of headphones are untouched, as is the book. The tablecloth was a little damp, but it needed to be changed, anyway.

I did not sleep well last night, and my back is still bothering me. It occurs to me that the chiropractor was not attached to the hospital that left, so perhaps a phone call to see if I still have an In there is in order.  (EDITED TO ADD:  I still have an In, and better yet?  An appointment for this afternoon.)

Otherwise, today is a writing day. No, really. I mean it.

Looking forward to the rest of the week, tomorrow evening is sewing, after which I’ll go to the grocery. Wednesday, I am to reside in a State of Anticipation of the arrival of the Home Visit Nurse, sometime between 8am and noon. Thursday morning Ashley will arrive, and Friday morning, I get a haircut.

I should sometime soon see what’s to do in Bath, so I can have some fun and find out where my doctor’s new practice is. Maybe there’s a Reny’s.

That’s the news from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

What’s happening with you?

Pics from yesterday:

Roland, the Headless Thompson Gunner

What went before: 500ish new words, bringing the total WIP to +/-21,750 words.

Knocking off a little early today, mostly because I have correspondence to write and a house to visualize.

Tomorrow, it looks like I’ll be in, unless the weather revises itself again. We have gotten nothing like the pretty bad storm the ‘beans were predicting. So far. It’s supposed to be warm and rain tomorrow, but a lot depends on timing. Right now, it’s looking like Tuesday is my day out, in between Monday’s warm-and-rain, and Wednesday’s — wait for it — snow.

Also tomorrow, I need to bake bread. I bought some harvest grain mix which I’m going to add to the Standard Whole Wheat Loaf to jazz it up a bit. There’s nothing wrong with the Standard Whole Wheat Loaf, mind you; I just prefer something a little chewier.

Tuesday, of course, is Book Day. It may also be a day to take a short drive and test the proposition that using bluetoothing both googlemaps and sirius xm from the phone will result in my having both things, with the map program interrupting the music as necessary. I’ll also see if the car’s map program will speak to me when there’s a CD in play. I would also like to speak to the person who thought that drivers only need a map or music. Must be a non-driver.

In. Any. Case.

Everybody stay safe; I’ll see you tomorrow.

Monday. Cloudy and … there’s something weatherly going on outside — frizzling, I guess.

Breakfast was the last waffle with sausage gravy. Waiting for one of my extremely rare cups of coffee to brew. I have a choice of leftovers for lunch.

The dry ingredients for today’s loaf of bread are mixed together, the other ingredients assembled and ready to be added as soon as everything warms up a bit.

Aside the bread, I have a couple of minor tasks to attend to, but today is, one! more! time!, devoted to writing and to ASL homework.

Has anyone here read Alibi by Sharon Shinn? May I have your no-spoiler impressions?

Unless I knock off really early today, or for some reason choose blanket forting, I will not finish the Honey Pot Plot today. But I probably will finish it tomorrow. It’s a spare little trilogy, but I’ve been consistently amused. I am especially amused that the Myth of the Winged Russian has leaked over from RED (now RED One)– and for all I know RED‘s writers got it from somewhere else. The Winged Russian really deserves a place beside Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner. For those who haven’t read it, the first book is Rocky Start, by Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer.

I’ve been rotating between reading on the couch in the evening and reading in bed. The cats are trying to work with it, but I get the sense that they prefer reading on the couch, which, after all, has History behind it. Last night was a couch night, and they all four came in to join me. Tali took the top platform of the cat tree, so she could overlook the whole room. Trooper claimed his usual corner of the couch. Firefly snuggled in hard against my hip, and Rook got up on the back of the sofa and put his paw on my shoulder.

And that’s the Monday morning report from the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

How’s Monday treating you so far?

Today’s blog title brought to you by Mr. Warren Zevon, “Roland, the Headless Thompson Gunner.”

Big wind, tiny void

Big wind tiny void
curls in safety, softly warm
Big wind dies, void sighs
–Haiku off the cuff, Sharon Lee

What went before ONE: And the bread’s out. Not a bad looking loaf, though I got a little carried away with the dusting.

Recipe here

TWO:  Big wind blowing. The Teeniest Void Kitten climbed into my lap when it started, and curled up into a knot the size of Rhode Island.

This of course makes it very easy to type.

Ren Zel and Anthora are an … interesting couple.

THREE:  What went before: So, I thought I was waiting for a box of bookmarks today, but it turns out that what I was really waiting for was a box full of Ribbon Dance mmps! Coming out on April 29!

In re BaltiCon: People are asking if there will be a Friends of Liad breakfast and/or a Teddy Bear Tea.

The Friends of Liad breakfast, which is not a con event, but a gathering of the clan to share a meal, and to catch up with each other, is definitely possible; the hotel restaurant is able to accommodate a group. I can’t tell you when, because I need to find what my schedule will be.

Teddy Bear Tea: is traditionally a con event, and therefore vulnerable, as all events, to the necessities of the program.

Bottom Line: I don’t have any information to share until I get together with BaltiCon Programming, and their schedule is finalized.

Summing Up: Watch the skies.

Saturday. Sunny and gonna get warm. Monday, say the weatherbeans, it will snow.

Breakfast was naan, hummus, and a mini-orange. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch is on the knees of Zao Shen.

This morning, I need to change the strip that keeps the heart monitor stuck to my chest. No, I am not happy about this.

After that — we’ll see. Maybe I’ll go for a ride, being as it’s gonna be so warm and all. I haven’t been to Belfast since forever. Maybe get lunch at the coop. That could work.

In other news, and in the spirit of saving the best for last — it comes about that the anniversary edition of I DARE will be published by Baen in December. Here’s the new cover; art by Sam Kennedy.

There’s a black hat caught in a high tree top

What went before ONE: The taxes have come home. I need to rearrange money so I can write some hefty checks and get them in the mail while we still have mailmen in the state.
After I’ve done the rearranging, I do believe I’ll have a scone and a cup of tea.

Trooper has had his first dose of prednisone.

TWO: I have written the hefty checks. I have moved money around, including setting up the quarterly tax reminders. Nerve-wracking work. After I did all that, I went back to Steve’s office, as per protocol and explained what I had done and why, and asked if that agreed with his understanding of how we had agreed to handle the finances.

I didn’t hear an objection, so I guess we’re good to go, and I will be having the extra glass of wine this evening.

Tomorrow, I need to call the insurance and ask them what the heck they’ve decided about the bill from the walk-in clinic that they were going to get right back to me about, given that I now have a nasty-gram from said clinic informing me that my bill is past due.

Other than that, I’ll be baking a loaf of the Russian Black Bread and transcribing/expanding the scenes I wrote out by hand today. A quiet day — knock wood. I could really enjoy a quiet day about now.

Friday. Chilly. Raining like a hootenanny. Apparently this will be our day, except it may rain harder.

Breakfast was tomato and cheddar cheese sandwich. This used up the last two pieces of rosemary bread, which means — yep. Today, I bake.

I’m going to be baking a new loaf for me — Russian Black Bread. Back in the Before Times, when Steve and I were living in Lowergate Court, and were oh-so-very-broke, I used to bake a black bread that was awfully tasty. I long ago lost the recipe, and the only thing I remember is that it called for a cup of Strong Black Coffee and molasses. Today’s recipe calls for espresso powder and cocoa as well as molasses. So, well see how it goes.

In addition to baking a loaf of bread, I need to call the insurance, as previously noted, and I should probably start the laundry, but, honestly? — that may not happen, since I also want to write. Lunch will probably be fish of some kind. Maybe salmon cakes.

So, that’s what’s happening with me.

What’s happening with you?

What happened since: The bread’s in for its first rise.

The Police have graciously provided the title for today’s blog.  “King of Pain.”

There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole

What went before: 1,266 new words — not too bad for a woman who thought she was going to sit down in the comfy office chair, open the laptop and — fall asleep.

I b’lieve I will be ordering in a Garmin tracker. The insurance may pay for it, and even if not, the stress of the sporadically working FitBit is — stressful. And it’s something I can do something about.

The insurance bill for the car and the house has landed, so I’ll be writing that check before I use the money for something foolish, like buying a dozen eggs. Couple other pieces of snail that I need to deal with came in, too, though nothing particularly urgent.

Tomorrow, I need to go visit the cardiologist so they can glue one of those heart monitors to my chest for 30 day. Yes, yes; I did do this before. The doctors are bored. Or fishing. It would be nice if they got bored of fishing.

I note that I am Out of Cookies. That was careless of me. OTOH, maybe I’ll make scones tomorrow morning, so I’ll have something nice to eat with my tea when I come home from the cardiologist.

And that? Is all I’ve got.

Until. . .

Tuesday. Glowering and cold at the moment. Beans are calling for a high of 51F/11C. We’ll see.

In the meanwhile, breakfast was homemade wheat bread toast, cream cheese, grapes. As I remarked to Rook, who was sitting on my lap at the time, “These grapes ain’t nothin to write home about, so it’s a good thing we’re already here.’

I’ll take the trash and recycling to the curb as soon as I finish my first cup of tea and find my shoes.

Oven heating for scones.

My arm that received the booster shot hurts. I realize belatedly that it is my left arm. I’m usually more careful than that, but — can’t really get a re-do. And thinking about it — I kind of ache all over, which I ascribe in equal portion to the COVID shot and fifteen trips up and down the cellar stairs in service of getting things to where they needed to be.

After I put the trash out, get the scones in the oven, and do my duty to the cats, I’ll look over what I wrote yesterday, and add in all the names that I had forgotten since the last time I used them.

The cats felt that 5 hours and 10 minutes of not-particularly-restful sleep was enough for me. On the one hand, I would have liked more sleep. On the other, I was having some very anxious dreams, which makes me feel like that guy who complained the food wasn’t very good and the servings were too small.

All that said, I’m angling to go to bed early tonight, given that the Things I have to accomplish are inconveniently timed for fitting in a nap.

It’s good to have A Plan.

How much sleep did you get last night?

____________
Right before he started chewing on my head — that’s head, not hair — Trooper gave me to understand that There Was No Food In the Bowls. As we see here, Trooper was exaggerating slightly:

Oh, today’s blog post title brought to you by Odetta and Harry Belafonte, “There’s a Hole in the Bucket.”

The Conspiracy of Things

What went before: Yeah, that bread isn’t gonna rise, but I’m giving it a chance. I Did Something. Or Failed to Do Something. We’ll see, but I Will Be Surprised.

In my own defense: I was sidetracked because a bag fastener exploded into my face when I was unsealing the plastic bag around the flour bag.

That was bad enough, but it deconstructed as it rebounded. I found the two big plastic pieces, but? I didn’t find the spring. As those of you who have read the syllabus will be aware — I have cats.

So, I went into overdrive, looking for the damned spring, got out the mop, the vacuum cleaner, and finally found it — far, far outside the kitchen (good spring), and then I got back to the dough, which was cold, and ‘way too sticky.

And, I expect I’m going to have a bruise on my cheek where the plastic casing hit, so that’ll be worth a Look with the Do You Feel Safe At Home question at the doctor’s office next week (answer — no. My Things are trying to murder me.)

Bread dough has been dismissed.

Now deciding if I’m going to push my luck and make a plain vanilla, so to speak whole wheat, or break out the Emergency Loaf from the freezer.

In other news, I’ve made an appointment to get a COVID booster on Monday, which is sooner than I had wanted, but an allowed move, since my last booster was in September, and I’m over four months. I’m hearing that COVID boosters may no longer be A Thing, and I am going to Baltimore in May…

SPOILER: I made a quick loaf of “plain vanilla” whole wheat. It turned out great. Photographic proof:

Saturday. Sunny and chilly.

Woke up at 6, went back to sleep until 7:30, laid there for another half hour trying to think of a reason to get up. I did not actually think of a reason to get up, unless, “Oh, for Goddess’ sake, don’t be a crybaby,” is a reason to get up.

Breakfast was toast (the “plain vanilla” whole wheat makes great toast — just a note for those playing along at home), cottage cheese, the last of the grapes. Finishing up the first mug of tea. Lunch will be, it says, here, That Yam you meant to eat last week.

I have a few chores to do, and I may pull out the scrapbooks that I’d been putting together last year about this time, and see if I can recover any idea of what I thought I was doing.

A quiet day, in other words, with nothing much on the schedule. Except putting the kettle on for another cup of tea.

Who has a schedule today?

Saturday morning cat census:

Monday morning you sure look fine

What Went Before: Aaaaaand back from ASL class. I remember a little bit of finger-spelling and some signs, but I’m sloppy, and need to clean up my act. Fun doing something that’s not writing, in any case.

My package from the Royal Mail arrived, however, the Royal Mail thought I was gonna sign for it, and sent me instructions to be on-hand. Our local carrier wasn’t interested in getting out of his jeep in the wet, so he just tossed it in the mailbox. No harm done, and the package is in the drawer.

The cats were in post-Happy Hour places when I came home and were initially startled. Then Trooper got with the program and started demanding to be fed.

I have a glass of wine, and ought to look around for something to feed myself.

Friday. Cloudy and cold. Snowed on the overnight. (All together now, with feeling: Will this torment never end?)  Dry ingredients for today’s loaf of oatmeal/wheat bread mixed and coming up to room temperature, while I gird myself to meet the day, and set the kettle to boil.

…continuing…

We here in Central Maine are under an Active Wind Advisory. Hopefully, it will blow the snow off the driveway. OTOH, I’m not going anywhere today. One of the news feeds would have me to know that many folks in York County have already lost power.

Breakfast was one egg yolk (because I need the egg white to stick the oatmeal to the bread crust) and a whole egg, scrambled with leftover tomato, onions, rice, with the last piece of bread from last week’s loaf, toasted. Finishing up my first cup of tea, with Trooper on my lap, purring. Lunch will be fish and something. I’ve fallen off the fish wagon, which is all too easy to do without Steve around to remind me.

There are eleven in the ASL class, plus the teacher. I have homework — practice my ABCs, count from 1-10, which isn’t as easy as you’d think, work out how to fingerspell my last name — *cough* — and the name of the town I live in. Also, there’s a website and I’m to do Lesson One. I may have to teach Firefly how to Sign, because here’s the thing — you not only need to learn how to make the sign; you need to learn how to read the sign when somebody else is talking. Which is Every. Bit. As. Hard as trying to follow a conversation between two native speakers of, oh, Spanish, after having aced your Spanish 101 vocabulary test.

The classroom we’re in has … character. Also, a line of rubber duckies on a ledge above a bulletin board. There’s a podium with stickers all over it — colleges, coffee, sports teams. And a sign up with the duckies that says, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM WHINING. I’m not doing the room justice, really. For me, it’s Just This Side of Sensory Overload, and I have to force myself to focus on the teacher and my fellow students, instead of spacing around to study the Things.

So, that. As reported elsewhere, today I bake bread, ref “last piece” and “toast” above, and also the ASL homework. What else I do — depends.

What’cha all doin’ today?

Today’s blog post is brought to you by Fleetwood Mac, “Monday Morning,” not because it’s Monday morning, but because, in order to pass my very first sign course, 50 years or so ago, I had to sing a song in Sign, and for some reason I chose “Monday Morning.”  Yes, I got my certificate.

Oh, I had a debriefing when I got home last night:

Dancin’ in the dark

What went before: So, today’s work revealed to me that the niggling feeling that I had regarding something being off about the timing was, indeed correct. I need to recast a few scenes, but thank ghod I caught it this early in the process. If I’d written half a book incorporating this error, fixing it would have been a Nightmare.

I spoke with Eileen Stevens again this evening; she plans on beginning her narration of Diviner’s Bow this weekend.

Onward.

Oh, let’s see. Thursday?

Thursday. Dim and! It’s going to snow! Bah. BAH, I say.

Breakfast was oatmeal with inclusions of dried cranberry and walnuts. Lunch will be — I took some of that ham and pea soup out to defrost. If it’s gonna snow…

Today’s plans are to make the last of Steve’s bread kits that he squirreled away. This one is for a multigrain loaf. The flours and seeds are all premixed. I’ll be using my own yeast, rather than trust the little packet that came with. So, that should be good.

I have some PR to do, and a couple letters to write. Also, writing. I left myself a V. Cranky Note last night, to wit: WHAT TIME IS IT ON TINSORI LIGHT? Which — wow, talk about a head-scratcher.

Tonight is supposed to be my first ASL class, which is in-person at the high school. I’m hoping the snow just blows out to sea and leaves us to it. That would be nice.

The cats would have me believe that they are Out of Food. This is almost true, and they’ll be due for a refill about lunchtime.

I am still like The Plan that has me driving to Balticon, then stopping at Corning on the way home to do the glass museum for a couple days before coming home. If it still seems good tomorrow, I’ll have some reservations to make.

For those playing along at home: my ears have not fallen off, or turned red or black. I’m cleaning them three times a day, like it says on this sheet of paper here, and turning them per likewise.

This morning so far, Firefly and Tali have played a game of tag; Tali and Rook have played a game of tag; and Firefly has smacked Rook repeatedly on the head. Trooper is napping in the copilot’s chair.

And so it goes. Time to start the bread.

What’s the weather where you are today?

Today’s title brought to you by Bruce Springsteen, “Dancin’ in the Dark.”

He had a nasty reputation as a cruel dude

What Went Before: Yesterday, I changed out the cat boxes, vacuumed the basement, made bread, and wrote, all against a background of snow, then sleet. The plowguy came by in the late afternoon to plow the accumulation, leaving a skin of snow for the sleet to fall on, rather than taking it down to the asphalt and turning the driveway into an ice skating rink.

I also posted a snippet, which is reproduced below. Before we go there, however — A Word About Snippets: I often snippet from the WIP. I do this to share the joy of the work. In my mind, it’s analogous to my having baked a batch of cookies and offering you one. I am aware (sigh) that some people are … offended by snippets for various reasons that seem Good To Them. If you are one of those folks, and you see SNIPPET in one of my blog posts — skip over that part. You don’t need to write to me to explain how offended you are; I’m fine with not knowing. Both of our blood pressures will thank you.

SNIPPET: He sighed, and tapped the screen, swearing to himself that if it was anything less than news that the twelfth quadrant had disappeared, he would allow it to languish unopened until he had – and froze, staring at what was assuredly one of the rarest items in all the universe.

He had a letter from Theo.

Rarity though it was, he made no move to open it. Such things ought to be treated with respect, if not active alarm.

Monday. Windy and V. cold. Right now, it’s 17F-feels-like-7 (-8C-feels-like-minus-13). Avalanche warning for the White Mountains (in New Hampshire, about 120 miles from the Cat Farm) through Tuesday mid-morning.

Trooper is sitting on my lap helping me write this.

It snowed another inch or two on the overnight. Somebody was kind enough to plow out the berm at the end of the driveway last night. I know it was last night because a fresh-plowed pile would be dirty, and this one is white, so it was snowed upon after it was created. Dunno if the plowguy will be by for the last couple inches; time will tell, and as previously advertised, I’m not going anywhere.

I hereby declare that the trash and recycling will not be going out to the curb tomorrow. I cleared the trash containers in the house Saturday before it started snowing, so we’re all good here.

Breakfast was oatmeal with walnuts and raisins. Second cup of tea to hand. Lunch will definitely be leftover stew.

Last night, I again tried the reading-in-bed thing, eventually joined by Tali, and then Firefly. Rook did a check-in, but it was too early for him to go to bed. Trooper was in the big cat ring, and I don’t blame him for not wanting to leave it — that thing is cozy.

I was not particularly restful after I turned off the light, and even after Trooper joined me. He finally grumped, got down — and about five minutes later came back with Firefly, talking all the way. They both got on the bed, Firefly took up her position on my hip, Trooper on my ankle, and that did the trick. I slept until the late, luxurious hour of 6:15am. Cat magic FTW.

Dishwasher is doing its thing; I have my duty to the cats, a few pieces of correspondence, and some banking on the to-do list, but mostly, I’m free to write. I’m very interested to see where these letters lead us.

Apparently, I’m expecting a UPS delivery, but no mail — oh, wait. It is, in the US, President’s Day. No mail delivery. That’s fine.

How’s Monday treating everybody so far?

Today’s title brought to you by The Eagles, “Life in the Fast Lane”

Yesterday’s bread — this is a Pullman loaf, swiped by the US train chefs from the French pain de mie.  Its chief attraction is that it makes a uniform square loaf that’s good for same-sized sandwiches, with very little waste.  Mine is whole wheat; the original is a white bread loaf.