I have made my bread, and I must lie in it

At least, I have worked and proved my dough and knocked it back, and currently it is proving for a second time: all of which means I have been in the house all morning, and must remain in the house for another hour and a half until the loaf is baked and set to cool.

Which means I can't go to the Lit & Phil to work, at least until this afternoon: which means, QED, that either I rediscover the lost art of working at home, or else I spend the rest of the morning with a book and an air of dissolution.

I shall apply myself, but I wouldn't be at all surprised to fail. My shoulder starts aching almost as soon as I sit at the computer these days, and I do find it hard to work through pain. Le sigh.

Still'n'all. Here is Chung, under the bridge. Fol-de-rol...

Man shall not live by bread alone

One of the advantages of working at home all morning, of course, is that one finds oneself still at home at lunchtime, and so can make lunch.

Specifically, soup.

Specifically, mushroom soup.

Specifically, cream of cream of mushroom cream of velouté mushroom soup.

It's, um, rather creamy. And the cream of course is sour. Om-nom-nom.