Orion of Bluster
Mar. 2nd, 2021 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI don't understand why I keep getting ads for all kinds of planners. Who do they think I am? Don't they know I HAVE NO PLAN? Apparently not. If I had a planner, it would fill up with lines from unfinished poems, random quotes without attribution, pressed leaves, feathers, and the colored foil from chocolates, carefully flattened. I already have yards of notebooks inscribed with the ravings of a lunatic. Why on earth would I need a planner? To plan my future obsessive rantings? They occur spontaneously.
This morning, I got my yearly check-up from the dermatologist. Whee, who wouldn't want to go sit in a waiting room with a mask on for half an hour only to have every inch of their skin surface expertly examined by masked strangers? While cooling my bare heels in a little smock, I had plenty of time to contemplate the changes in hospital decor. Charcoal grey cabinets and tasteful pale grey paint with a touch of brown have replaced the white and vaporous green of my youth. I had forgotten what a happy young fellow the doctor is. As soon as he came in and bumped elbows with me, all was brisk cheer and efficiency. He sprayed a spot on my ankle and one on my cheek with liquid nitrogen to discourage pre-cancerous cells. It must be fun to split his day between pampering the smooth skins of well-kept ladies and gleefully freezing the spots off the not-so-well kept. Anyway, he's good at his job and announced that I'm doing great, and the zapped spots have stopped hurting now, so all is well.
At home, I created a birthday card for the Philosopher. it was not a standard size, so I had to make my own envelope out of wrapping paper, too. Then I made some more bread. I recently came across my mother's bread recipe, and decided to make that. It was the first bread I learned to bake, but when I moved out on my own, I moved on to a more whole-grain bread. My mother's bread is very white. It makes delicious toast that was the staple food of my childhood. Toast with jam, toast with honey, toast with slices of cheese, toast sprinkled with brown sugar, or just plain hot buttered toast.
The Sparrowhawk made beans and sausage for dinner. Alas, he discovered that our freezer in the garage had stopped working. We had to hustle back and forth to cram as much of the contents as possible into the freezer drawer in the refrigerator. Not everything fit. We had to eat quite a bit of the ice cream . . . . I also had to put the beef bones I'd been saving into the pot and make broth of them forthwith.
This morning, I got my yearly check-up from the dermatologist. Whee, who wouldn't want to go sit in a waiting room with a mask on for half an hour only to have every inch of their skin surface expertly examined by masked strangers? While cooling my bare heels in a little smock, I had plenty of time to contemplate the changes in hospital decor. Charcoal grey cabinets and tasteful pale grey paint with a touch of brown have replaced the white and vaporous green of my youth. I had forgotten what a happy young fellow the doctor is. As soon as he came in and bumped elbows with me, all was brisk cheer and efficiency. He sprayed a spot on my ankle and one on my cheek with liquid nitrogen to discourage pre-cancerous cells. It must be fun to split his day between pampering the smooth skins of well-kept ladies and gleefully freezing the spots off the not-so-well kept. Anyway, he's good at his job and announced that I'm doing great, and the zapped spots have stopped hurting now, so all is well.
At home, I created a birthday card for the Philosopher. it was not a standard size, so I had to make my own envelope out of wrapping paper, too. Then I made some more bread. I recently came across my mother's bread recipe, and decided to make that. It was the first bread I learned to bake, but when I moved out on my own, I moved on to a more whole-grain bread. My mother's bread is very white. It makes delicious toast that was the staple food of my childhood. Toast with jam, toast with honey, toast with slices of cheese, toast sprinkled with brown sugar, or just plain hot buttered toast.
The Sparrowhawk made beans and sausage for dinner. Alas, he discovered that our freezer in the garage had stopped working. We had to hustle back and forth to cram as much of the contents as possible into the freezer drawer in the refrigerator. Not everything fit. We had to eat quite a bit of the ice cream . . . . I also had to put the beef bones I'd been saving into the pot and make broth of them forthwith.
oh no!
Date: 2021-03-03 06:10 am (UTC)and being forced to make broth: it's an outrage. i'm sure it's covered in the geneva convention.
Re: oh no!
Date: 2021-03-08 04:03 am (UTC)Re: oh no!
Date: 2021-03-08 05:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-03-03 03:41 pm (UTC)If you would like to share your mother's bread recipe, I would love to have it. My oat bread makes good toast, but it not quite as crispy as white bread would be.
no subject
Date: 2021-03-08 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-03-05 08:32 pm (UTC)I laughed out loud. I know exactly what you mean!
no subject
Date: 2021-03-08 04:04 am (UTC)