Tag Archives: cookies

Plug in remedies?

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A series of really crappy moods.

Good — got that out of the way!

I may have to deactivate all my WordPress plug ins and then update them after sussing out which one is preventing easy access to media files. Ugh. I am too unschooled to do this by myself.

I’ve been busy, as you know, with my manuscript. Essentially I’ve deleted a novella — 20,000 words in the Silo Folder of Deletions with more to join them soon. It’s mostly relieving to have another set of eyes helping me decide what’s wheat and what’s chaff. But today I feel exhausted by it.

Finn got into a stock pot somehow. We don’t know when or how. But he got quite sick, depositing turmeric-yellow puddles of vomit threaded with scallion leaves. It wasn’t until all the rugs had been scoured that I sat in my writing chair for class and discovered he’d puked all over it as well.

I just scraped the deep seams of the upholstery with a knife, and soaped it all up, and vacuumed, and sprayed with pet enzymes. It’s one of the grosser things I’ve done in a while.

I seem to be in need of cheering up. Gonna pop a few pictures on here and deliver some gingerbread whoopie pies to my neighbor. Then it’ll be almost time to tune in to Deadline Whitehouse. Ugh. Bye, bye Roe? I’ve mostly been avoiding twitter but have seen enough to know how sickening it is to have trump’s partisan hacks on the Court.

On second thought, I’m gonna click on the fire, sew, and finish watching The Santa Stakeout. (So bad. It was so very bad).

December 22, 2020

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Learning a new craft means more mess. For needle felting: wool rovings, specialized needles, finger and thumb protections, foam pads to perform stabbing operations on.

But I am having so much fun!

The end of the year brought some formalized goodbyes: to corruption, duplicity, psychopathology, sexism and racism. LIES.

And of course, COVID-19.

And now we must add: and mutations. (Did you hear the one about Ireland? After centuries of oppression, they can finally keep the British out! Ar-ar)

More personally, as I’ve stated elsewhere, I want to spend less time in grievance. And, I want to read more this year. Both feel do-able.

Today: pin wheel cookies and a dog walk at Cutler Park.

Have you ever seen Stevie the Wonder dog on Instagram? He’s adorable. Lives with some nerve disorder that makes walking difficult, but he is famous and beloved and everyone sends him packages. So many videos of him opening packages. Stevie_the_wonderdog

Above, is Finn’s version. Unfortunately what he is dispatching at the outset was a household gift. I thought it was a dog toy. (Oh well! Sorry, MR! He DID enjoy the treat inside!)

(In case you’re wondering about the clumsy links, the updated WP makes selecting text nearly impossible, especially if near a line break or photo. Errr. But on the positive tech-front, K figured out how to download photos from iPhone to Lenovo laptop. It requires a format change on the phone end and takes a LONg time — because along with innovating to a stellar degree, Apple also spends a fair amount of energy crafting intentional ill-ease across platforms — but wait! I hear farting sounds. Is this grievance? The good news is I’ve already deleted 1,000 pictures off my phone).

Speaking of farting, if you haven’t seen this, you’re welcome!

Let’s count

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One backpack full of 12 books delivered to empty neighborhood kiosk.

Three ten hour days spent fixing TV computer. One call to Comcast. Endless searches on internet. Number of consecutive good night’s sleep in absence of TV news? FIVE. Number of heroes in this story? One. My husband.

Six hundred words deleted over three hours, the equivalent of roughly 1 1/2 pages. Number of words still to delete? Don’t ask. Number of times I’ll wring my hands before the second draft’s done? Also — don’t ask.

Number of metal utensils laid out to deter dog-thieving: six. Batches of cookies baked: seven, two of them doubles. One ball of dough left.

Articles of impeachment written: two. Number of articles that COULD HAVE been written (spitballing, here): 25. Still to come: full House vote and one major shit storm in the Senate. Number of years poised at the edge of the abyss: 243.

Number of times I felt dismayed reading black twitter’s critiques of Warren: too many to count.

Seasons of The Kominksy Method watched: 1 1/2 (highly recommend).

Total library fines owed: eek! I don’t know.

Number of times I paused to notice the absence of my sister: at least a dozen. Some moments marked by relief, others by grief.

Number of rallies in support of impeachment planned for tomorrow (the eve of the House vote): more than 600.

Number of times I’ve tipped my head back to admire trees since reading “The Overstory” — too many to count. Number of people to whom I gave copies: three.

Two trips to the PO in the last five days qualifies me as a fucking saint. Three mice mailed, three mini-cloth houses.

Number of meds I forgot to take yesterday: four. Number I did take: two.

Number of days I just let go by without opening my laptop: two.

Eight days till Christmas, five ’til the shortest day of the year.

Here’s wishing all of you lots of love and joy in the days to come.

Umm sugar

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I can be an unabashed braggart when it comes to food — moaning my approval before anyone else at the table has a chance to comment, for instance. But, you know what? Every now and then I just hit it out of the park! These sugar cookies sailed right over the Green Monster* into my happy, happy mouth (*for those who don’t know, that’s a Fenway Park reference).

The recipe is from America’s Test Kitchen: The How Can It Be Gluten Free Cookbook.

I don’t bother with their laborious flour concocting and instead use whatever gluten free flour is to hand. These cookies feature almond meal — always a boon for this nut-lover’s palette — and cream cheese, which probably accounts for the confections’ creamy softness. I happened to be out of vanilla (what? –  I know!), so I subbed a smaller amount of almond extract. Pow — these cookies are to die for. And that’s saying something for gluten free!


It’s Friday and it finally stopped raining. I’m reading Michael W. Twitty‘s food memoir and just got to the part about his conversion to Judaism and the parallels between Jewish and African American culinary traditions. Left me with a hankering for pastrami (I must trust my dear readers to be openly lusting for sugar and red meat in the same post!). There may be a run to Zaftig’s in my near future. There happens to be one near my favorite Christmas Tree Shop in Natick (please stop, Dee — too many confessions for one post).


I’ll end on a loftier note. Here’s the start of my contribution to a wonderful collaborative art/magic project that Mo is dreaming up (I Dream of a World Where Love is the Answer — It’s Crow Time). More to come.

PS

crossing over

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After a two week break from computer screens, I am not unlike Jack, above, pausing at the edge, wondering how to re-enter.

Happy New Year, all!

I look forward to another year of sharing ideas, inspiration, techniques, and support on the worldwide web!

I have spent a lot of time quilting and knitting by the fire over the last two weeks.

This was how we saw C. for the most part – on his way out – to job or friends.

I baked 12 varieties this year.  This is the third year in a row that I vowed I wouldn’t.

Every two-footed member of our family got slippers for Christmas.  I seriously think Jack is wondering why he didn’t get any.  It’s not the cookies he’s wondering about — it’s the missing set of slippers!