Good morning everybody, and Merry Christmas.....!
DH and I had a nice Christmas Eve supper of roast pork, wild rice, roma tomatoes, little bitty croissants, red wine and blueberry pie. OK, Mr. Picky had only the pork and tomatoes and rolls, but I
had it all
. And I slept through the whole night (up at 4, but without interruptions, so this was very good). A good night's sleep is a gift in and of itself.
I came straight here to see how Fran was doing. Another great Christmas gift! Thank you, Leslie! What a relief to know she is going to be OK, after receiving an email from a mutual e-friend that did not sound so good.
We went to WalMart yesterday. I was surprised at how well mannered the crowd was. It sounds gross but I absolutely had to get my feet done. It is so dry here in the house and nothing works on my poor heels but a good soak and a scrub. The chair massage and herbal stuff in the water was quite lovely too. While there, we opted to pick up some "goodies," 3 pr of jeans for him; some undies and socks, and a pair of jeans for me. This would be our gifts to each other.
What a romantic he is--he was going to pay with his own card.
Since DH "never" gives gifts and doesn't want any, this is potentially a huge development. Next year, who knows? He might surprise me with something. It must be hard to have to have a logical reason and justification for everything--takes a lot of fun out of life....
I did fall asleep before
baking the latest loaf of oatmeal molasses bread. But not before I'd gotten really creative--the house has been feeling a little chilly and the oven won't heat low enough, so one place was too cool and the other too hot to raise the bread. Enter my brilliant idea. I straddled the loaf pan over a pot of steamy water (on the stove on low), covered the dough with plastic to keep it dry and covered the whole thing with a light dishtowel (actually an ancient diaper--the kind you actually had to fold before you could put on the kid). The whole thing was about 18 inches high.
This morning (yes, this morning) I hop out of bed, head for the kitchen while I wait for the email to load, etc., and there's this odd tower of stuff on my stove (didn't remember yet what I had done the night before). The bottom pot--the one with the water--has this whitish stuff that looks like clouds but thicker. I'm starting to remember at this point what it is.....
Well, the loaf looks like sourdough starter--all softish and wet and bubbly. It's supposed to be mostly firm and have a soft smooth dry-ish surface, like a baby's tushie. Well, at this point I have nothing to lose but a few cents (?) to heat the oven for an hour or so, so into the oven the loaf went. It is presently making the house smell absolutely lovely. The dogs will enjoy those clumps of simmered dough (they'll eat anything I "cook").
The wonderful thing, even if it doesn't turn out, is that there was no mess on the stove or anything. Who says there isn't a God? (Happy Birthday to You
, BTW! Thank You for the gift of this Wonderful Day!)
I think we are going to a movie today. I've always thought that was a slightly irreverent thing to do on Christmas, but that's what his family does so, OK. I think we are going to see Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. I always liked that one love song--Barbara Streisand recorded it, maybe 15 years ago ("All I Ask of You," I think it is called). Then there's "Music of the Night."
And since my children are still not speaking to me, the quandry: do I call them and wish them a happy Christmas? Or just let things lie still and (at least on the surface) relatively quiet. Ah, the joys of parenting irascible adult children. No way to win. Was I this bad? In that case, I love my mother even more for still being there for me.
Ooops, gotta go. Bread is smelling a little too "done."
Merry Christmas, All! It's gonna be a great day!