Well, since it is sliced bread that subject's a misnomer but I wanted an excuse to show you the latest loaf that floated out of the oven on the aroma of baking bread and sesame seeds. I told you that only 3 slices of the entire batch I took to The Clearing last weekend came home and Durwood made short work of them, and I think I also told you that as soon as the last loaves of that first batch of dough were in the oven I mixed up another batch in the same container so it could mature in the fridge while I was gone. It was ready when I got home, so after supper I formed a loaf, let it rise, sprinkled it with sesame seeds (an easy-to-make cornstarch wash is what makes them stick), and baked it. While I was out and about erranding yesterday Durwood sliced it. See, years (and years and years) ago he won a sales contest and received so many points out of a prize catalog that I think he spent the last few on a 3-pack of socks. He ordered our first microwave (which I thought was a waste of counter space and we'd only use to heat up coffee and baby food, silly me) along with a completely useless set of microwave cookware (who needs special stuff when there's Pyrex?), a small set of Le Creuset cookware (that we still use), a KitchenAid stand mixer with every available attachment (also still in use), a fishing pole (that hasn't been wet in decades), and a small slicer (which I also thought was a waste of points). That slicer is a wonder when you bake bread. You can set the thickness and zoom through the loaf and you don't end up with one extra-wide slice and the next one paper-thin. It cuts slab bacon and anything else you can make fit the blade and slide on the platform thing. I love it. Even though it's not in constant use, it sure is handy to have. It lives on the "kitchen" shelves Dad built under the basement stairs if you ever need to borrow it.
Last Thursday when I was at Walmart getting my new phone I cruised the computer printer aisle just to look because my current one was making a sound like I imagine the old-time printing presses used to make so I knew it was only a matter of time before it crapped out. There was an HP printer/scanner/copier on the shelf for $50. Fifty bucks! You read that right,and it wasn't on sale. I knew that my paycheck for last week would be a bit higher so I waited until after payday (so mature and grownup of me, don't you think?) and I got it yesterday. I can even return the USB cable I bought (doesn't it grind your behind that they don't include one and the printer can't run without it? it does mine.) because the one from the old printer works on the new one. (way to save $15, Barbara!)
Yesterday afternoon I was playing with my new phone and managed to disappear two of the icons--the phone and camera--and I couldn't for the life of me figure out where they'd gone or how to get them back, there's absolutely no help in the User Guide, and I have no resident young people. So after supper I got in the car and went to the mall (god, I hadn't been there in years) and a nice young man in the AT&T store helped me. I'm sure I'll be back there because I've already disappeared the picture of LC I put on the "lockscreen" and replaced it with some GPS app stuff (how? I have no idea.) but I did manage to change that for a shuffle of all my Facebook pix. I'd like to know how to pick one and make it stick but I'm satisfied for now. For. Now. I should be done buying electronics for a while since I'm typing on the new laptop that I got last fall before my week at The Clearing. New laptop, new phone, new printer--yeah, done for quite a while.
January 14--Robert Llewellyn, Untitled. Orange sunset light fell over their clasped hands. Their bodies lay facing in opposite directions as if they were pulling each other when they fell. Inspector Graves stood with the polished toes of his black shoes millimeters from the hands. He held his own hands behind his back as if reaching to touch was too tempting. "Do we know who they are?" he asked no one in particular. The crime scene techs and the officers in the area looked at each other. Graves straightened and laughed. "Well, don't all speak at once. This isn't a graded course, speak up." Behind him he heard a sigh and the rustle of notebook pages. He turned to see Officer Miller frowning at her notes. "As they're both men we don't think they're a couple." Graves raised his eyebrow at her. She cleared her throat and went on. "Crime Scene found a wallet in the breast pocket of that one." She pointed at the man in the camel topcoat. "His name is Hermann Reinhold from Milwaukee. The other one has no ID." She tucked her notebook back into her pocket. "There are ligature marks on both wrists." She let out a long breath and fell silent. "See, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" said Graves to the group. "Let's find out what Herr Reinhold was supposed to be doing today instead of dying in my county and who his boon companion is."
Sorry, BFW, I know this isn't finished but it's at least more story than I usually write at night. Yes, there's more "next" to it but I haven't got a clue what it is. Sorry. God, it's a dreary day. I'm going to have to wear a full-spectrum lamp as a hat to survive the day with any cheer at all. I'm thinking there's homemade toast with huckleberry jam in my breakfast future. Toddle-oo!