I Don't Work On Monday Anymore...

...unless Mrs. Boss is off on a vacation, that is.  I've already got "WORK" penciled in on one January and two February Mondays, but this is the first official "not working Monday's anymore" day.  Hooray!  I'm sure I won't be quite as "hooray" about it a week from Wednesday when I get my first, smaller paycheck but I'll learn to manage.

Since it's my day off I didn't set an alarm and didn't wake up until almost 8:30.  Amazing, although I do feel a little like I slept most of the day away.  The sky was blue and the sun was peeking at me over the neighbor's house when I went out to top up the birdbath but now it's all gray and cloudy out there and a few snowflakes are drifting around, nothing to stick or need shoveling, just to remind us what could happen if it wanted to punish us.

The birdie tree is popular.  I don't think it had been out for half an hour before the sparrows, juncos, and chickadees arrived en masse.  I looked out the kitchen window earlier and there was even a squirrel nestled in the branches--probably scarfing down cracked corn and sunflower seeds, the glutton.

I was kind of getting a bit frantic about how I'd get things done before driving off to my writing weekend but then when I was doing my morning yoga I realized that I have today to do things.  So while my toast was toasting I got the first two loaves of Italian Semolina bread formed and rising.  Next they get brushed with a cornstarch wash, sprinkled with sesame seeds, slashed diagonally (I put that here because I'm apt to forget until the loaves are in the oven), and get it baked.  Mmm, there's nothing like the smell of baking bread.

I took the play kitchen over to DS's last night to show it off.  The birthday girl loved it and when I folded it up to bring it back home she said, "Where my table kitchen?"  She likes it.  I can't wait for her to be here, able to play with it longer and with the play dishes and food that go with it.

January 4--James Kay, SKY-208.  Nan felt like she skimmed the surface like a water spider.  Her kayak was a copper color that reminded her of sunset light.  She loved how quiet it was when she paddled, no ear-splitting whine like a jet ski, not even the subdued hum of a trolling motor, just the small splash of her paddle and the call of the geese.  Today the water was nearly flat calm, so the puffy white clouds were reflected so clearly she almost expected to see them stir in the sky as she paddled through their images.

Holy moly, it's almost noon!  The first two loaves are in the oven and the last two are rising on the pizza peel.  It'll feel real good to have the bread all baked, then I can carry the slicer upstairs and Durwood can slice it for me while I'm at work one day this week.  Next I make breakfast burritos for the freezer.  Hasta la vista, babies!
--Barbara