“Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.”
Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)
There’s a simple reason why I’m
overweight zoftig. I like baking a little too much. I’m having a love affair with our Kitchen Aid mixer. It likes me best because I ignore it the least. Take tonight, for example. Tomorrow night, TheBon is hosting our weekly Guild meeting at her apartment and has asked everyone to bring something to eat.
“Something” is such a lovely open word, don’t you think?
Loving this potluck loophole, Mum and I baked six dozen chocolate chip pecan cookies. Pecans are sooooo much better with chocolate than walnuts, did you know that? Then I made three mini loaves of pumpkin spice (with cranberries and pecans) bread and 3 mini loaves of banana bread. Mum, Dad, and I have polished off one of the pumpkin loaves and I have no doubt that at least one of the banana loaves will disappear into my brother’s room (never to be seen again) before the sun rises.
Here’s a picture of all our baked sundries and my clapotis, which is on it’s last straight rows repeat and looking too lovely for words (I keep throwing it over my shoulders and posing dramatically, not that anyone notices):
At least one pumpkin loaf will be taken to the potluck tomorrow night with two dozen cookies and a very large pot of spiced lentil soup Mum made for the Channukah potluck (which never made it to it’s destination). It smells wonderful, I haven’t tasted it though because of my love affair with the Kitchen Aid. I can only eat so much, you know.
Anyway. I’m also determined to wrap up 1 of each of the loaves and a dozen cookies for D (remember D, that wacky seamstress?) as her Christmas gift. I just found out this afternoon that D will, in fact, be coming to Guild tomorrow (giving her a ride) and that I don’t have a gift ready for her – considering that we’re doing a gift exchange, that seems like a fairly major faux pas. So… yeah – baking to the rescue!
Today, Mum and I went on two walks, trying to overcome my S.A.D. The first one was around the neighborhood, but I begged to go home early because I forgot a scarf and hat (coooold, brr). The second one was at one of the local malls (it’s 34 F out there, y’all!) where I had tons of fun trying on clothing, despite my recent weight gain. I am madly in love with Ann Taylor LOFT right now. I got two rayon/ angora blend sweater dress thingies (I’m not going to wear them as dresses, do you know how short these things are?) for $19 on sale! I’m actually considering taking ’em apart to reuse the yarn…
We’ll see if I go that far ’round the bend.
Back to the S.A.D. I tried out the 10,000 lux lamp this afternoon. It did cheer me a bit up, if only to see some bloody light in the afternoon around here. I won’t have a real review for a week or two, it takes some time for the effects to show.
That’s about everything. Last night, during Monty Python and the Holy Grail (great knitting movie!) I cast on a pair of lace fingerless mitts. I’m making up the pattern as I go (how many different lace patterns can I fit into these?) and am liking the result. Maybe I’ll actually post the pattern once I finish them.
The only other thing to report is that I actually remembered to print out all my Winter Handspun Swap participants’ questionnaires and pair them up! Wow, brownie point to me for not flaking. I have two partners, one of whom is in Australia, so I need to start on those skeins once I finish my Holiday gifts.
That is all. Except… I couldn’t resist including this:
A woman was having a passionate affair with an inspector from a pest-control company. One afternoon they were carrying on in the bedroom together when her husband arrived home unexpectedly.
“Quick,” said the woman to her lover,” into the closet!” and she pushed him in the closet, stark naked.
The husband, however, became suspicious and after a search of the bedroom discovered the man in the closet.
“Who are you?” he asked him.
“I’m an inspector from Bugs-B-Gone,” said the exterminator.
“What are you doing in there?” the husband asked.
“I’m investigating a complaint about an infestation of moths,” the man replied.
“And where are your clothes?” asked the husband.
The man looked down at himself and said,… “Those little bastards!”