decompression

Our kitchen is wonderful.  Future kitchens have an awful lot to live up to.   I cook.  It’s true.  Especially when I’m avoiding other things.

Por ejemplo:  tonight’s dinner? Turkey and portobello lasagna.  With fresh mozzarella.

I continue to love them…

There are angels in your angles
There’s a low moon caught in your tangles
There’s a ticking at the sill
There’s a purr of a pigeon to break the still of day

As on we go drowning
Down we go away
And darling, we go a-drowning
Down we go away
Away

There’s a tough word on your crossword
There’s a bed bug nipping a finger
There’s a swallow, there’s a calm
Here’s a hand to lay on your open palm today

the decemberists

adventures in scratch

Last night was pizza night.

As the resident overachiever, I used Alton Brown’s recipe for dough, which I have to admit I was rather skeptical about because the first step calls for dissolving 25 mg of chewable Vitamin C in warm water–before adding yeast and such.  Whatever that does to the dough, though, I thought it was delicious.  Technically I should have made the dough the previous evening so it could sit in the fridge overnight.  This was the first bread dough I’ve made that actually rose on schedule.  Usually I have to wait a little (or a lot) longer; maybe it was the instant–as opposed to active dry–yeast or just a great recipe…

As if dough weren’t enough, I decided that since I got a brides-me-downed super-nice blender, that surely I could just whip up some fresh pesto.  Not that hard.  Ha.   First of all, who gets olive oil. In their EYE.  Me.  And you can’t just rinse olive oil (extra virgin, first press) off a contact lens with saline and put it back in.  Trust me.

Back to the blender.  We fought. And it won.  I have the sliced spoonula to prove it.

Or maybe I won because I came out of there with some pretty good–if oily–pesto.

The pizzas turned out great (pictures forthcoming).  Though after that little foray I don’t know that I’m awfully excited to put chorizo on anything again. Tastes good–but have you ever squeeze meet out of plastic casing?  Just not right.

Entschuldigen Sie, bitte

My attempts at resurrecting my blogging life (creating my own hyperreality.  Thank you Beaudrillard), my own innate gracefulness thwarts it all…

I spilled coffee on the lovely lappy about a week and a half ago.  Taking the advice of those much wiser (and more patient) than I, I let it sit all week, turning it on only once to make sure I actually still had a computer.  Then there was the youth lock-in (sigh), prolonging my virtual communication a few days further.

Well, it’s mostly better…A few keys still a little sticky and fickle.  But I’m in Birmingham for the sister’s viola recital, and there is an Apple store here.  Whew.

Friends, back your computers up.  Right now.

view from a sunday night

Tonight I am laughing at my roommate who is in her room watching an anime dvd (our dvd player is mysteriously broken).  All because she told her fourth (?) graders she would.  So now I get to listen to her call “Meredith…It’s so…weird!”  All because she’s a Good Teacher.

Tonight I’m staring down the pipe at a packed week.  Somehow I’ve put off taking care of defensive driving school for a pesky little speeding ticket, and I’m frustrated that I have to find the time to do that when I really should be researching, putting together a syllabus, and being all-around brilliant.  What would have been truly brilliant would have been not speeding to begin with.

Tonight I’m feeling pleased with my movie choice.  Only four youth came (trying not to take it personally), but we watching God Grew Tired of Us, a National Geographic documentary about Sudanese “lost boy” refugees coming to the United States.  It tells a fascinating, deep story about their (literal) journey through Sarahan Africa (and again), and then to the “land of opportunity” and the lessons they learned and how they interact with this way of life, and attempt to maintain their own sense of identity and culture–to varying degrees of success.  Also, it’s fun to watch them experience the grocery store.