How many things make a post, again?
May. 23rd, 2008 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceI hate it when my scissors stray. I have a pair of kitchen scissors that I use for all those kitchen tasks, from snipping string to cutting open fowl; and they double up in the yard for herb-gathering purposes. And I haven't found them for days, and it's driving me cocky.
And I am a bad person: I went out to gather rosemary for the ongoing tripe project - with a knife, on account of scissorlessness - and Barry was right there so he came out with me, and I shut the door to stop Mac from following. I can handle one boy at a time out there, but two defeat me; I'm always sure that keeping an eye on one will mean that the other is over the wall and gone. Mac is perhaps the one who's most eager to be out (there's a teeny-tiny window in the back door, maybe five foot off the floor, and he jumps up and hangs there by his claws...), and Baz is the one who knows the way over the wall, but still. It was Baz who was there, so he got to come out today.
And otherwise, I have not been out of the house today. Which is most unusual: but I was all set to head off to the Lit & Phil - with coffee in flask and all - when I remembered all the cooking that I had in task, and just decided not to go. So I drank the coffee at home, and worked, and cooked intermediately; and I have added two thousand words to the Alexandria story, and in the meantime I have cooked the cannellini and browned the pork and added that to the tripe and cooked that-all together, and eventually mixed the tripe-and-pork with the beans and added chorizo, and it-all is cooking down as I speak and I am going to go and eat some now, to see how we're doing. I have to leave the house in half an hour anyway, because there is ballet tonight. I love it when people dance for me, almost as much as I love when people sing for me.
And I am a bad person: I went out to gather rosemary for the ongoing tripe project - with a knife, on account of scissorlessness - and Barry was right there so he came out with me, and I shut the door to stop Mac from following. I can handle one boy at a time out there, but two defeat me; I'm always sure that keeping an eye on one will mean that the other is over the wall and gone. Mac is perhaps the one who's most eager to be out (there's a teeny-tiny window in the back door, maybe five foot off the floor, and he jumps up and hangs there by his claws...), and Baz is the one who knows the way over the wall, but still. It was Baz who was there, so he got to come out today.
And otherwise, I have not been out of the house today. Which is most unusual: but I was all set to head off to the Lit & Phil - with coffee in flask and all - when I remembered all the cooking that I had in task, and just decided not to go. So I drank the coffee at home, and worked, and cooked intermediately; and I have added two thousand words to the Alexandria story, and in the meantime I have cooked the cannellini and browned the pork and added that to the tripe and cooked that-all together, and eventually mixed the tripe-and-pork with the beans and added chorizo, and it-all is cooking down as I speak and I am going to go and eat some now, to see how we're doing. I have to leave the house in half an hour anyway, because there is ballet tonight. I love it when people dance for me, almost as much as I love when people sing for me.