Yesterday was about returning to hippie food. Granola and yogurt happened. Enough for about a week of power eating.
Breakfast for now, though, is cranberry sauce on toast. When you think about it, cranberries, sugar and lemon juice really make jam. That's my reasoning anyway.
I also ordered a couple of treats ahead of time for various December events, pictures when they arrive.
And, partly as a response to the national law that requires people to shop the day after Thanksgiving, I went my contrarian way and freecycled some artworks.
They've all been exhibited, the ink drawing in a fairly prestigious juried show, and they've run their course with me. The recipient was happy, so that's better than sitting in my loft.
Elsewhere, Liz Hinds, see her blog, she's lovely, writes occasionally about absent mindedness, reminding(!) me of a recent attempt I made to boil an egg for tea.
I put the little pan of water in to boil, forgot to set the timer, and went away. Arrived back later to a hissing noise, a skim of water, spitting as it dried. Just in time to avoid burning the pan. Which was okay, as it turned out, because I'd also forgotten to put an egg in.
Happy day, everyone, when you boil an egg remember to add the egg.
