Update

[desperance]

This morning I baked a loaf, but do not shout at me! For lo, I did not knead it! Not at all!

I used the dough hooks that came with my hand mixer, that I had entirely forgotten about. I liked nothing about this process; it feels awkward and difficult and fundamentally wrong. It might be better with a more powerful mixer, but I'm not prepared to bet fifty quid on that, which is what it would cost.

However, the bread's okay. So yes, I shall be good for a while.

While the bread was proving and baking, I cleared a lot of stuff in the office, so that when Mark came back at midday we could do some more heavy shifting, this to there and that to the other corner and so on.

For those of you who were anxious, do not shout at me! We did not put the printer on the double-stacked filing cabinets! I evolved an alternative solution overnight, of the which I shall show you photos when I can find my camera. Which has, surprise, been Put Somewhere. Hmmm.

So: I have many empty shelves and many full boxes, and a classic opportunity to sort through all my shit and throw a lot of it out. I did actually try to apply myself to that exact task, with a small boxful of papers: only it turned out that I wanted to keep almost all of them. Sigh. That's not how it was supposed to go, y'know...?

I've just spotted an old packet of typing-paper that I know for a fact I've owned for at least thirty years. How do I know this? It's quarto. When did you last see a sheaf of quarto?

I'll never use it, obviously, for that exact same reason; but I don't suppose I'll ever throw it out. That's a survivor from my teenage, that is. It's practically a relic.

Comments

[bellinghman.livejournal.com]

I do not hand knead.

I do have a Kenwood Chef which is butch enough to do a pretty good job most of the time (though I will concede that my last attempt at the Floris potato bread went badly wrong somewhere, and I ended up with something closer to a batter than usual - though it still baked reasonably well). It's definitely a case of hanging over it with a spatula pushing the dough back down and in, though. At best, on the other hand, I've ended up with something that really does correspond to a silky dough.

I am a wuss.

I do not hand knead.

[moral-vacuum.livejournal.com]

There are proper keepsakes and nostalgia-inducing items, and conversely there is the pathological need to hoard, and whilst suffering from this you will make up excuses as to why you're keeping things.

To see which category you fall under, carefully consider your reaction to the following phrase: IT'S A WAD OF PLAIN PAPER FER CHRISSAKES, GET A F***ING GRIP AND THROW IT AWAY.

I say this as a fellow sufferer who is in the early stages of recovery.

[http://users.livejournal.com/la_marquise_de_/]

I am reassured.
Quarto is something I'd keep, too, but that may be the historian in me as generally I'm fairly ruthless about throwing out. If I did no need absolutely to be here on Friday, I'd threaten to drive up and help with the sorting as an anti-arm-exacerbation move.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I lurve hand-kneading. I do have to set the kitchen timer, because it exhausts me with the achy hurtiness, for I am a wimp with RSI; but I can and will do ten minutes if the ticking clock tells me to, and I love the feel of the dough in my hands, and how it shifts from sticky through spongy to springy: it's a tactile joy.

And I love the fact that I can do it, and that good bread results. I have few physical skills, but this is one, and I deeply resent needing to give it up. Even if that's only for a while. It's like typing: I will never willingly dictate, either to a person or to a machine, because I love the physicality of fingers on keyboard. And again it's something that I can do, and do well. Which is, of course, why I have RSI, and hence tingly fingers, and hence have to give up kneading, and and and...

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Heh. I'm fairly sure the sorting will still exist as a needful task in the future...

Quarto yay - but I always preferred foolscap (more aesthetically pleasing in proportion, plus more words!) and I'm not sure I still have any of that. *pouts*

[desperance.livejournal.com]

It's a wad of paper. Even ignoring the historical/nostalgic interest, how can I throw it away? I might suffer from an extreme paper shortage, or some other sudden need. I am storing up treasure in heaven. As it were. And being ecologically sound, for there is carbon bound up in that there paper. Etc.

And I have always known that I was a pathological hoarder. I don't even need to gaze around my house with the eyes of a stranger; I am too too familiar with the symptoms, and the diagnosis.

[frumpo.livejournal.com]

Ah, but if you were to suffer an extreme paper shortage would you be able to locate the wad again?
Perhaps if you file it next to the eight million jiffy bags.