The Weekend of Baked Goods
First of all, a big “hello” to Drew out in Guam. Nice talking to you, kiddo!
This last weekend was pretty insane. The DHM is in California taking care of family business, and sad family business at that. I know these sorts of things mean closure to the people involved, but sometimes closure isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes even closure hurts.
True to form, I chose therapy by baking this past weekend. Three pumpkin pies. Pan de compagne that just didn’t work out the way I wanted–I think I need to fiddly with the whole-wheat/rye flour ratios, because the first loaf was just awesome but the other loaves have been nothing to write home about, really. Maybe I’m making the refreshments too dry.
And a whole TON of sugar cookies. I did a triple batch and got a biscuit-cutter to cut them, so they all have lovely scalloped edges. And they are lovely–just a touch of browning on the bottom, and full of yellow buttery sugary goodness on top.
We also picked up pumpkins for the kids to carve. The Princess, of course, wanted the biggest she could find. The UnSullen One wanted the most deformed. And for the Little Prince, it was all about how much he could taunt his sister while making his choice.
Kids. Can’t live with the arguing, can’t taser them to make them behave…
Yes, I’m sure my weekend sounds boring to you. But since I’m still hacking and coughing up interesting bits of my lungs, boring was what I wanted. No excitement like Jill, who is now in a big pickup with a fellow hunter–a man who has a disturbing habit of closing his eyes while he drives at high speed. It’s the kind of excitement I could do without.
Anyhoo, I’m off to take a shower, then it’s time to sink back into the manuscript and see what more trouble I can get my friendly neighborhood hunter in. Sorry to be boring, but even us madcap writers have boring stretches. And are right damn glad for them, too, I reckon–as my grandfather used to say.
Happy Monday, everyone!
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