But why is there no more beer?
Aug. 12th, 2014 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceThere is wine; I remembered to buy wine. I may have to drink wine.
That's about as much as is happening today: an instance of wine-drinking. I did get ARCs (which I still pronounce letter by letter, while everyone around here treats it as an acronym and says "ark") for BEING SMALL - with a wholly different cover from the Great Cover Reveal, just because - and one is already off to a local newspaper for hopeful review. Otherwise it's all been intentions and unreality and nothing getting written, nothing at all.
The most I can manage, apparently, is a potful of baked beans. Locally-grown organic heirloom Yellow Eye beans, so recently dried they barely needed boiling into tenderness; they are currently simmering in the oven with onion and celery and carrot and tomato and bay, and sage and chillies from the garden - and garlic and ginger as soon as I remember to add them, whoops - and chipotle and cider vinegar and molasses sugar and smoked paprika and lots of pepper. Yay beans. And there will be leftover pork and cauli from last night, and freshly fried potatoes, and I will call that dinner and be done.
Dunno what it is about today. Neither one of us slept too well last night, but even so. I shouldn't be this hollow.
(Oh, and I'm also trying a wholly different kind of sourdough, but that's a two-day process: no results before tomorrow night.)
(Oh, and I have a stock to strain and clarify: but the most of the work in that was done yesterday, when I stripped down the carcase and put the bones in the slow cooker with lots of veg & water. Today is totally the between-day, where nothing much is ever going to occur.)
EtA: Alternatively, of course, I could always drop my jar of personally-pulverised garlic and watch it shatter on the kitchen floor. Then I could have all the fun of sweeping and scrubbing and rinsing and drying and fretting about teeny-tiny splinters of glass evading everything and piercing a boy's paw &c &c. How's about that? Yup, let's try that...
That's about as much as is happening today: an instance of wine-drinking. I did get ARCs (which I still pronounce letter by letter, while everyone around here treats it as an acronym and says "ark") for BEING SMALL - with a wholly different cover from the Great Cover Reveal, just because - and one is already off to a local newspaper for hopeful review. Otherwise it's all been intentions and unreality and nothing getting written, nothing at all.
The most I can manage, apparently, is a potful of baked beans. Locally-grown organic heirloom Yellow Eye beans, so recently dried they barely needed boiling into tenderness; they are currently simmering in the oven with onion and celery and carrot and tomato and bay, and sage and chillies from the garden - and garlic and ginger as soon as I remember to add them, whoops - and chipotle and cider vinegar and molasses sugar and smoked paprika and lots of pepper. Yay beans. And there will be leftover pork and cauli from last night, and freshly fried potatoes, and I will call that dinner and be done.
Dunno what it is about today. Neither one of us slept too well last night, but even so. I shouldn't be this hollow.
(Oh, and I'm also trying a wholly different kind of sourdough, but that's a two-day process: no results before tomorrow night.)
(Oh, and I have a stock to strain and clarify: but the most of the work in that was done yesterday, when I stripped down the carcase and put the bones in the slow cooker with lots of veg & water. Today is totally the between-day, where nothing much is ever going to occur.)
EtA: Alternatively, of course, I could always drop my jar of personally-pulverised garlic and watch it shatter on the kitchen floor. Then I could have all the fun of sweeping and scrubbing and rinsing and drying and fretting about teeny-tiny splinters of glass evading everything and piercing a boy's paw &c &c. How's about that? Yup, let's try that...