Graffito

  • Monday night is The Steven's marked off time to go forth onto Second Life and be someone else for a bit, so it seems absolutely appropriate to jump onto the Internets and leave you a little note or scratch my graffiti into the wall.
  • Tonight's dinner was butterflied roast chicken with root vegetables. I have at least a quarter pound of compound butter left after leaving a thick layer with huge handfuls of herbs under the chicken's skin. Compound butter is money in the flavor bank.
  • I've cooked on enough crap equipment for so long that I do not exactly trust the Ferrari of a range the Beautiful Landlords have bestowed into our care. A couple oven thermometers are on their way. If that does not answer some questions I am either taking my flour canisters into the lab and getting protein counts for their contents or special ordering flour nation-wide. The pursuit of the perfect biscuit is not an unworthy quest.
  • It's been downright damp this last week. Every day I go out to the front porch to feed Lola the Cat that Came with the House and she looks both reproachful and hopeful as if to say, "Today MUST be the day you let me in! IT MUST!!"
  • On the needles two pair of socks (I have not forgotten you, Jeff!), a shawl out of ungrateful and knotted wool, two or three other orphaned projects.
  • A beret of the most fabulous red yarn (silk and mohair) just the needles and is drying. It just glows.
  • I look over the Analytics of Blogger and I am amazed as where people are and wonder how in gawds name did they stagger into The Leiderhosen Nation? Look at all these people and all the fabulous places they are from! And why are they so shy? Not that I am begging for comments, but if you'd ping me a little comment saying where you are and what the sky looks like today I'd be so happy. Ever so.
  • Some days (mostly in winter) is very trying to wait for one's companions to catch up.
Well, that's it for now. Must go do a few chore and draft about a million miles of optim merino because Masterpiece Theater's Emma is going to require some undivided attention.

Much love to you and peaceful winter dreams.
Mme.

Comments

catmum said…
Bonjour, Mme,
I'm still here, I subscribed to your blog long ago and enjoy every post, but since it arrives in my RSS feeder, it doesn't allow easy commenting. I comment in my head...does the noise in my head not get through to you? ;-)

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