Thursday, October 14, 2004
Comfort post.
Fall weather makes me happy. Content. It's no longer a time to 'show off' my pale, bruise-addled gams (courtesy of the ever-excitable and lovable poog who still has not learned that jumping on the Mastress is a baaad thing). Instead, it's leather weather. Sweater weather. Protective jeans weather. **sigh**
It's also the time of year when I want to delve into a very thick, delicious book (or several books at once). I've just started reading Hard Laughter by Anne Lamott, lent to me by the Viking. I am also beginning The Bone People by Keri Hulme, lent to me by Blake. On top of these two books, the Roundtable is about to choose the next book for our discussion, not to mention those issues of The New Yorker that just keep a-comin'. Such joy!
This is also the time of year when my kitchen becomes the center of my household. I want to cook up big pots of steaming stews, bake comfort food casseroles, roast chickens... you name it. I just want to cook again. And this year, come hell or high water, I'm going to teach myself how to make bread.
And, since I have just scads of free time, I'm thinking about taking a knitting class. Oh yes, peeps, I'm turning into some strange version of Martha Stewart meets Henrietta Hermit.
Who dat snappin' back? |
It's also the time of year when I want to delve into a very thick, delicious book (or several books at once). I've just started reading Hard Laughter by Anne Lamott, lent to me by the Viking. I am also beginning The Bone People by Keri Hulme, lent to me by Blake. On top of these two books, the Roundtable is about to choose the next book for our discussion, not to mention those issues of The New Yorker that just keep a-comin'. Such joy!
This is also the time of year when my kitchen becomes the center of my household. I want to cook up big pots of steaming stews, bake comfort food casseroles, roast chickens... you name it. I just want to cook again. And this year, come hell or high water, I'm going to teach myself how to make bread.
And, since I have just scads of free time, I'm thinking about taking a knitting class. Oh yes, peeps, I'm turning into some strange version of Martha Stewart meets Henrietta Hermit.
