![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
is it wednesday? well it should be.
Apr. 20th, 2011 02:33 pmWe have left the stage of Senor Onion's illness where he just lies there looking tragic and sleeps when he isn't being a sad little thing. We have now reached the stage where he isn't quite well but he is dramatic about every little experience. He also claims to be too helpless to do anything. (like picking up a hankie that is at his feet)
There is a great deal of weeping at Chez anglo-america today.
Mr. Jenner went to bed last as he was working and found himself in that groove of not wanting to stop. I let him have a lie-in this morning and I got up and made pancakes. Pancakes rarely live up to their expectation. Unless you aren't the one cooking them. I make them. Miss Biscuit will eat one. Senor Onion will eat half of one -after claiming he wanted two. They aren't even big pancakes. I subscribe to the smaller is better school of pancakes. Then I finally get to sit down and eat my pancakes at a table that has a nice sheen of syrup and applesauce. When you are the cook, eating pancakes is a solitary experience; unless you have a dog. Then the dog will stare at you like you are some diplomatic official who has the power to get them a visa to Switzerland. I don't have a dog. So I eat the pancakes. Or I send the remains to the compost. When you are the cook, everyone else is done with their pancakes and they are off to cause a new form of havoc. This is why I rarely make pancakes. Though I do like maple syrup. A lot. And butter.
When I haven't been comforting Senor Onion or observing Miss Biscuit trying to pull on her swim pants (and really this is a sight to behold) or put them on her head as a jaunty chapeau, I have been making scones. Scones need to be made sometimes. I am not talking about those door-stop thingies that Starbucks likes to sell to the public. I am talking proper mothereffin' scones. Little, light, delicious and with some JAM. yeah they are good.
I also baked more bread yesterday. Do we need this many baked goods in our lives? This a question that isn't for me to answer. The bigger question is, "does it keep my hands occupied?" and I think I can answer yes.
There is a great deal of weeping at Chez anglo-america today.
Mr. Jenner went to bed last as he was working and found himself in that groove of not wanting to stop. I let him have a lie-in this morning and I got up and made pancakes. Pancakes rarely live up to their expectation. Unless you aren't the one cooking them. I make them. Miss Biscuit will eat one. Senor Onion will eat half of one -after claiming he wanted two. They aren't even big pancakes. I subscribe to the smaller is better school of pancakes. Then I finally get to sit down and eat my pancakes at a table that has a nice sheen of syrup and applesauce. When you are the cook, eating pancakes is a solitary experience; unless you have a dog. Then the dog will stare at you like you are some diplomatic official who has the power to get them a visa to Switzerland. I don't have a dog. So I eat the pancakes. Or I send the remains to the compost. When you are the cook, everyone else is done with their pancakes and they are off to cause a new form of havoc. This is why I rarely make pancakes. Though I do like maple syrup. A lot. And butter.
When I haven't been comforting Senor Onion or observing Miss Biscuit trying to pull on her swim pants (and really this is a sight to behold) or put them on her head as a jaunty chapeau, I have been making scones. Scones need to be made sometimes. I am not talking about those door-stop thingies that Starbucks likes to sell to the public. I am talking proper mothereffin' scones. Little, light, delicious and with some JAM. yeah they are good.
I also baked more bread yesterday. Do we need this many baked goods in our lives? This a question that isn't for me to answer. The bigger question is, "does it keep my hands occupied?" and I think I can answer yes.
