Torpor of Sleet

Our dinner/book club went off quite well. One adult and one child were missing, because the child had a fever, and her father stayed home to take care of her. I sent a portion of stew and mushrooms home for him. There was a moment of panic when I had just carefully folded the eggwhites into the batter and placed the batter in the pans--and the oven wouldn't turn on! WOE. The Sparrowhawk consulted the stove manual, determined several things it couldn't be, and tried turning all the burners on and then off again. And then tried the oven again, and it worked. Thank goodness. The cake turned out perfectly.

Tomorrow is potluck day. I had hoped to kill two birds with one stone--possibly having enough stew (or boeuf en daube, as the cookbook would have it) left over to supply the potluck as well. There's only a cup or two. I had one hunk of pot roast that weight over six pounds, and another piece of roast that was nearly two pounds. Plus onions, carrots, etc. AND YET . . . . It remains to be seen if I'll cook something else tomorrow. I may have used up my cooking moxie for the next couple of days.

I'm about ready to take the day name seriously and torp.