Half Rainy Day

This morning was clotted with thick gray clouds and distant thunder that moved overhead and rain fell.  And fell and fell and fell, until the stroke of 2 o'clock when it abruptly stopped and the sun came out.  Which promptly raised the humidity by about thirty percent rendering the rest of the day hot and humid and still.

 

I saw a bee busy on one of the purple coneflowers but all I had was my phone which doesn't take decent close-up photos so all we have is this blurry picture.  *sigh*

Not being in much of a knitting mood, I cast on another preemie hat yesterday afternoon and finished it this morning.  I like the peachy color.  It'll make some baby look bright and cheerful.

08 August--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's.  

Naomi ate the last bite of her lasagna and used a scrap of garlic bread to sop up the sauce on her plate.  “Well, what did you think of it?” she said. 

“Of what?” 

“Fay!  Of the new lasagna recipe?” 

“Oh,” Fay looked at her empty plate and blushed, “it was delicious.”   She cleared the table while Naomi got two small bowls from the box and then dished out chocolate pudding from the pot on the stove. 

Fay looked at it in amazement.  “You made cooked pudding?  Wow.” 

“No.  I made homemade chocolate pudding.  There is a difference.” 

Fay took a tentative bite and then dug in.  “I never had pudding like this.  What brand is it?” 

“It is not a brand.  It is homemade.” 

Fay’s face was blank with surprise.  “You mean you just made pudding out of nothing?” 

Naomi smiled at the older woman’s shock.  “No, I started with milk, sugar, vanilla, and cocoa powder and went from there.  That is how people made pudding before there was pudding in a box.”  

Fay was amazed.  “I never knew there was a way to make it if you did not start with a box.” 

“But then, you are not the world’s most experienced cook.” 

“No, I guess I am not.”  Fay scraped up the last of the luscious brown goo in her bowl.  “Is there any more?” 

Naomi laughed at the success of her surprise for her friend.  “Now you sound like Marcus.”  She got up and refilled Fay’s bowl.  “I think I might just wander over to the diner tomorrow around nine and make breakfast for Mister Brady.  Show him what he has been missing his whole life.” 

Fay did not look up from her spoon.  “Great.”

 

Today's toss was a pair of cast iron griddles that I haven't used in donkey's years.  Now that I think of it, there's a cast iron corn stick mold that could go out too.  I'll have to find it tomorrow.

--Barbara