For days now the thought of making banana bread has been bedeviling me. This morning I succumbed to the temptation because Durwood was recopying the freezer list the other day and I saw "5 bananas for bread" on there that I'd completely forgotten. Score! I dug them out and thawed them in the microwave, then softened the butter in there too, cracked 3 eggs, measured sugars, flour, and a few other ingredients including walnut pieces (ooh, I love nuts in banana bread, don't you?), then mixed it all up, portioned it out, and baked it while I read the Sunday newspaper. (such a civilized use of my time) In one and one-quarter hours here's what we have. Three small loaves of the most aromatic banana bread on the planet (it's because of the nutmeg) made using the recipe we got from the cook/houseman of a villa in Montego Bay, Jamaica thirty years ago. (oh my god, has it really been that long? yep, we were there for our 10th wedding anniversary and we celebrated our 40th last December. 40-10=30, simple arithmetic tells the tale)
Here's what the eastern sky looked like when I ducked out to make sure the birdbath had enough water covering the heater. It was about 7 o'clock, no pretty colors unless you count the cloudy blues and grays... and I do. See? Light where dark reigned only days ago. Oh, I almost forgot. This morning I missed the photo of the century. I was reading the paper when I heard a bird hit the patio door and looked up in time to see a hawk come screaming down, wings outstretched and talons at the ready to snatch up whatever little bird had stunned itself on the glass, and fly off. I didn't see what kind of bird bought it (I hope it was a sparrow, they're messy and annoying) but was thrilled to see "nature red in tooth and claw" play out before my eyes.
After supper last night I finished the latest chemo hat for KW and then I worked out a way to cheat four more stitches into each of the mitten cuffs instead of frogging them back and starting over. See, I realized yesterday that the yarn I used to make the same pattern for DD is one size thicker than the yarn I'm using for these which means that using the same size of the pattern and needles will produce smaller mittens. I can't wear smaller mittens but I reallyREALLY didn't want to rip out even the inch and a half I had already made. So in four places on the sides of the mitten cuffs there will be two purl stitches in a row for about an inch instead of knit 1, purl 1 all the way around. Since these mittens are for me and no one will notice such a tiny blip in the symmetry of the ribbing (unless I show them) I'm not fussed about it, I just want warm hands.
February 5--Mihaly Munkacsy, Parisian Interior. One drawer stuck out of the tall secretaire just at the right height for anyone walking past to hit their head on it. The rest of the room was painfully neat and tidy so the one protruding drawer was a puzzle. Raleigh stood with the toes of his shoes just touching the threshold of the spartan room, not yet ready to insert himself into the scene. He let his eyes roam the small, still space, marveling that no dust danced in the shaft of sunlight streaming in the window. Carlo had lived there for the last year but there was no sign of his brash and colorful self in the staid rented room. Emilia sat quietly crying on the bench in the hall sounding a bit like the pigeons that lined the roof next door.
Are you going to be celebrating the Super Bowl later? I kind of feel like Super Bowl Sunday is some sort of pseudo-holiday. I guess it's natural to feel that way since I've lived in Green Bay, Wisconsin, Home of the Green Bay Packers, since I was 11 years old and grew up steeped in football, even if I'm not a fan, although knowing about it is pretty much unavoidable in a city this small. Anyway, it seems like an excuse to make a meal of party food so I've got 3# of chicken wings marinating to become Japanese Chicken Wings and I plan to go to Little Caesar's to fulfill another yen I've been battling. I'm going to buy some of those loaded bread bite things with cheese and bacon and other things bad for your hips that I keep seeing the commercial for. They look so good and they're only $5 so I'm getting them; it's a pseudo-holiday. So what if tomorrow's WW weigh in day for me. Maybe I can vault out of bed and race to the scale and weigh myself before gravity catches up with me... nah, probably not but it's a great fantasy to contemplate. I know Durwood's rooting for the Patriots--because they play in Gillette Stadium, he retired from the Gillette Co., and they (or Proctor & Gamble who bought Gillette awhile back) pays for most of our health insurance and his pension, plus we own stock. So, go Pats! (that's the right way to say it, that contraction, yeah?) In the meantime I'll be putting fresh sheets on the bed, folding wash, and not eating an entire loaf of freshly-made banana bread. Toodles.