DEAD MOUSE SATURDAY

Oops, I did it again. Wait, am I quoting Britney Spears? Argh. Well, Richard Thompson did it, so I am quoting him. (Actually, the clip is worth watching.) I drank some wine while cooking, white this time, and had another hell night. Woke up, couldn't sleep, was thinking thoughts "distilled from limbecks foul as hell within" ... Dark dark dark despair despair despair. My hands ached which didn't help either, probably from grasping the vaccuum handle as I continued the de-flea operation.

Why is it so hard to have water and some analgesics right there next to the bed for such a contingency? I mean, that is really not a lot of work, although the actualization sure seems insurmountable.

Well, only my room to go in that flea situation, but as the household is still asleep at 9:30, I don't want to get started on the chaos quite yet. Dealing with my things always requires angst and agita, bien sur. (Though I might hear someone... R, who was up earlier; I could tell by the smell of cinnamon raisin toast.) Emmy has rejoined the people of the world. Whereas, I was having trouble finding her and she didn't seem to want to come out of the basement, she has returned to the venerable cat practice of sleeping in inopportune spots as well as the magical ability to be inappropriately underfoot.

 While she did not catch this critter, Emmylou was moved to share. I found this on my bedroom floor.

R, who has more than his share of troubles, wanted to learn to cook, so we started a batch of no-knead bread, roasted some vegetables (broccoli, which is really great roasted, parsnips, and some carrots with which to make roasted carrot soup), and some vegetable stock.

I don't think I have ever been so aware of how hard it is to teach. So many considerations. I mean, what basic facts or tecniques can you take for granted that everyone knows? Too easy? Too hard? Too fussy? And, you even have to stop to think about what you might be doing quite automatically at this point. Much of my cooking is purely experience and instinct at this point. And hey, what are best practices if you are teaching someone something from scratch?

After my years of cooking with and watching my friend, S, the once and future chef, I thought it incumbent to teach R to clean up his "work station" after every task or round of vegetable cutting. I am a notoriously messy cook, using all available space, too many implements and vessels, and invariably there are food artifacts on the floor (makes me very popular with dogs).

Woods up the street.

Sunset as seen from the Trader Joe's parking lot.