Yesterday, I went to a party populated predominantly by the family of a family friend; today, my darling great-aunt and great-uncle from out of town visited. None of these are people I converse with frequently, and thus, I spent half the weekend answering some variation of, "What are you going to do with your life?" Innocent questions born of good intentions, no doubt, but I was no good at answering as an 18-year-old high school grad, and eight years later, I'm not much better. Quite frankly, if asked today, I'd probably say... I want to write, or to study nutrition. If none of that works out, I'll settle for baking bread.
I'm back in DIY-mode for the time being, and I've got a spiral scarf and a half-finished bikini top and plans for a frilly skirt, once I find a pattern; and I've been weaving sandles, and some of them aren't even half bad, and the next pair WILL have a Minnie Mouse theme, just you wait; and I've finally learned that if I run two miles at top speed one day, and four miles at skip-to-my-lou pace the next, then no one set of muscles gets burnt out, so the jogging is back on! Mostly, though, I'm back into the cooking loop. The past week alone, we've had Japanese red beans and sticky rice, known as osekihan and excellent for creating choking hazards; ultra soft but hardly squishy hot dog buns, which made the supermarket ketchup-topped hot dogs within halfway healthy, per Michael Pollan himself; baby castella, officially christening my puff pancake pan only weeks after insisting I'd do so any day now; and, as of today, Smitten Kitchen's brown butter Rice Krispie Treats, and good luck not following suit now that you know they exist, even if it takes you, um, seven months what is WRONG with me.
I find it hard to accept that I can't do escapism for a living. If all else fails, couldn't I live with my crafts and work the rest of the time?
Pst. Jingle-jangle.
I'm back in DIY-mode for the time being, and I've got a spiral scarf and a half-finished bikini top and plans for a frilly skirt, once I find a pattern; and I've been weaving sandles, and some of them aren't even half bad, and the next pair WILL have a Minnie Mouse theme, just you wait; and I've finally learned that if I run two miles at top speed one day, and four miles at skip-to-my-lou pace the next, then no one set of muscles gets burnt out, so the jogging is back on! Mostly, though, I'm back into the cooking loop. The past week alone, we've had Japanese red beans and sticky rice, known as osekihan and excellent for creating choking hazards; ultra soft but hardly squishy hot dog buns, which made the supermarket ketchup-topped hot dogs within halfway healthy, per Michael Pollan himself; baby castella, officially christening my puff pancake pan only weeks after insisting I'd do so any day now; and, as of today, Smitten Kitchen's brown butter Rice Krispie Treats, and good luck not following suit now that you know they exist, even if it takes you, um, seven months what is WRONG with me.
I find it hard to accept that I can't do escapism for a living. If all else fails, couldn't I live with my crafts and work the rest of the time?
Pst. Jingle-jangle.
