I love to make things and stuff to eat is especially good to make. Abby sent me a recipe for a loaf of bread that's rolled in sesame seeds and is just fantabulous. It's rising right now and soon it will go in the oven and in not very long we'll know if we succeeded or if we have to beg her to send us some. It was very smart of David to marry a chef but not so good for us that they moved to Montana. Oh, wait, you think they did that on purpose? Nah, everyone wants to live next door to me, right, Jenny? Mwa-ha-ha-ha.
Look! More writing!
February 10--Titian, The Worship of Venus. Last night I dreamed of babies. Armloads of babies. Truckloads of babies. All naked and all boys. My dream babies played in a meadow of soft green grass dotted with pale violets and straw baskets of apples as rosy as the babies' dimpled flesh. My dream babies had curly hair of every color, rich brunette, russet, and gold. I smelled the sweet milkiness of their breath and the tart apples they ate. My babies were all happy as they tumbled and hugged each other, happy to be together, happy to be warm and fed. A few of my dream babies sprouted wings on their backs, tiny feathery wings too small to carry them into the sky, but big enough to tickle them and flutter as they played. None of my babies cried; one looked mischievous and one looked frightened, but not one of them cried.
Okay, I kind of like this but it sort of creeps me out too. This is more your thing, Jenny.
--Barbara
No comments:
Post a Comment