Comic Book Characters Never Get Old

As it happens, sometimes no actual belief in oneself is necessary for stuff to turn out spiffily. Yes, I made that up. Bite me.

Is it possible?

Pete makes bread in the bread machine all the time, but that involves slicing and I cannot resist an oblique angle. My slices always look like they came out of a homemade mitre box. So rolls seem like a better form for me than loaves. This is my second attempt and I expected to learn some new and exciting ways to sort of fail. It might look like I dropped the dough in coffee grounds, but no. That’s finely diced fresh herbs from the garden because fresh herbs in bread? I want to eat that.

Apparently, it’s possible!


I got lucky. In a couple of days, I’ll try again. If I can duplicate my results, my experiment will prove sound. Also: I can stop running around the dining room, shouting, “SCIENCE! neerrrr neerrr neerrr neerrr SCIENCE!” That is driving the cats quite mad.

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No Reason Just Seems So

Topaz well knows the fresh hell that is having two sisters.

La famiglia has been scheming to get us all to Disney for my fiftieth birthday. That is fine with me, so long as no one expects me to turn up, too. I was reminded of Brendan Behan.

I was court-martialled in my absence, and sentenced to death in my absence, so I said they could shoot me in my absence.

The whole notion has made me cranky and teeth-gnashy. Grrr.