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desperanceThe nice cooker-mendy men have been and gone. The cooker, alas, is not mended; parts must be ordered. They will return in a week. Hey-ho.
Meanwhile I have two working burners and many, many apricots. I think everything that happened last night was good: the chutney, the cake, the puree. And Dave bore off a significant poundage of excellent fruits to be dried in Katherine's dehydrator. And yet, and yet. A greater poundage still remains.
I think I may make more chutney, because I always incline towards spices; and the four jars I made yesterday were not spicy enough for me, so I totally have an excuse for a second round. Possibly with more ginger this time, as well as an excess of excellent chillies.
Meantime, I have a yen to write an SF story about the principles of wabi-sabi, that should begin:
Everything lasts forever.
Everything is finished.
Everything is perfect.
...and then goes on to prove it. Just because. This may be what fiction is for.
Meanwhile I have two working burners and many, many apricots. I think everything that happened last night was good: the chutney, the cake, the puree. And Dave bore off a significant poundage of excellent fruits to be dried in Katherine's dehydrator. And yet, and yet. A greater poundage still remains.
I think I may make more chutney, because I always incline towards spices; and the four jars I made yesterday were not spicy enough for me, so I totally have an excuse for a second round. Possibly with more ginger this time, as well as an excess of excellent chillies.
Meantime, I have a yen to write an SF story about the principles of wabi-sabi, that should begin:
Everything lasts forever.
Everything is finished.
Everything is perfect.
...and then goes on to prove it. Just because. This may be what fiction is for.