Our kitchen smells grand right now. I didn't have the oomph to stir up the whole wheat bread dough last night so I did it this morning. This recipe has milk, honey, and oil in it, in addition to the water, yeast, salt, and all whole wheat flour. It went together so easily and now it's sitting on the counter for its first rising--and rising it is. About an hour into the process I noticed that the kitchen was starting to smell like yeast and when I looked at the container I saw that it was beginning to rise. Now that it's about ready to fall and then go into the fridge for a few hours the dough is touching the lid of the container and has just about filled it. I am fascinated by the magic of taking simple ingredients--yeast, flour, water, and salt--and making something as life sustaining and life affirming as bread. Maybe it's the winter or cabin fever or something but I'm tempted to bake my way through this book. Who wouldn't want a loaf of Tapenade bread? Or Onion Rye with real caramelized onions in it? What about a loaf of Limpa with cardamom and orange zest? See? I've got you thinking of baking some bread too, don't I? I'm thinking I'll borrow the other two books from the library and keep going, through all three written by the same authors on the same premise. (In my secret heart I know I'll end up buying at least one of the other volumes. Maybe I'll put them on my Amazon Wishlist for future gift givers to find.)
I finished the Bunny Lovie last night. It looks way more like a bunny now that it has ears and a face. It's basically a stuffed head with a blankie, or lovie, attached. It's the right size for cuddling at naptime or dragging around by one ear. And yes, I sewed the ears on extra securely and I embroidered on the face before stuffing the head so I could knot the yarn tails together so they won't get tugged out either. This isn't my first go-round with a toddler and their sneaky little fingers.
Totally by accident I walked alongside the bed yesterday at sunset in time to catch the setting sun shining through a slit in the clouds. I'd hate to have missed this.
I am happy to report that the apple tree in the back yard is budding. I noticed when I went out to fill the bird feeders that the tips of the twigs and branches are swelling and every so often there's the teeniest hint of pale green. It's really happening, people, Spring is coming. Hallelujah!
March 8--Burstein Goldman, 4 Test Tubes. The ranks of tubes filled with clear, colorful fluids filtered the light like stained glass windows but this was a lab, the church of science not religion. Opal kept her hands shoved in the pockets of the lab coat Darren had given her when they left his office. She was afraid to get near any of the long steel tables for fear of jostling the delicate instruments. The lab assistants walked around stirring things, pouring green liquid into pink making it turn blue. Opal was embarrassed to ask what they were doing. She didn't want to seem ignorant and make them respect Darren less for it.
Somehow I have misplaced the first mug rug I knitted so I guess I'm on my way downstairs for the same yarn, pattern, and needles to make another one. Unless I carried it down there for some obscure reason. I'll be the one on the couch surrounded by yarn and stuff. Toodles!