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desperanceBarry has a sunshine. Mac has a green bean. There is peace in the kitchen. (It was rather nice to have little furry-face tickling my calves, begging for a bean; he'd been hissy and uncomfortable at noon, which is the bottom of his medication cycle (one pill a day, ie, delivered at lunchtime). Then he vanished for a few hours. Now he's back. Yay.
There may be peace in the kitchen, but my own head by contrast is a seething turmoil of discontent. Today's words disallowed by the online Scrabble dictionary: uninvited and adulatory. I am so mad I could spit. I gave up playing Words With Friends because it wouldn't allow perfectly legitimate words; must I abandon Scrabble also? Bah humbug, say I.
Otherwise, the day has been quite charming. I have cycled, I have watered my own garden and Becky's too in her absence, I have read widely on the internet and in Seveneves, and now I am preparing my shrimpagundi. Well, alternating preparation with glasses of wine and more Stephenson. There's not really that much to prepare: peel the shrimp, tail the beans, snap the asparagus. (Is there any truth, I wonder, in the argument that asparagus always snaps just at the perfect point, where the stem starts to get woody? I go along with this because I rather enjoy snapping it stalk by stalk rather than chopping at an arbitrary point; but I am inveterately dubious, and can't help thinking that if I applied pressure in a slightly different way a given stem would surely snap at a different point, and thereby shatter the entire philosophy...)
There may be peace in the kitchen, but my own head by contrast is a seething turmoil of discontent. Today's words disallowed by the online Scrabble dictionary: uninvited and adulatory. I am so mad I could spit. I gave up playing Words With Friends because it wouldn't allow perfectly legitimate words; must I abandon Scrabble also? Bah humbug, say I.
Otherwise, the day has been quite charming. I have cycled, I have watered my own garden and Becky's too in her absence, I have read widely on the internet and in Seveneves, and now I am preparing my shrimpagundi. Well, alternating preparation with glasses of wine and more Stephenson. There's not really that much to prepare: peel the shrimp, tail the beans, snap the asparagus. (Is there any truth, I wonder, in the argument that asparagus always snaps just at the perfect point, where the stem starts to get woody? I go along with this because I rather enjoy snapping it stalk by stalk rather than chopping at an arbitrary point; but I am inveterately dubious, and can't help thinking that if I applied pressure in a slightly different way a given stem would surely snap at a different point, and thereby shatter the entire philosophy...)