When I took up residence here at Elder House I made three vows to myself. Well, several others as well, but those are not for now.
First to never eat spongy white bread or perfectly square super grain bread that resembled twigs and pebbles. Not that these items were usually on the menu, they weren't. I just hate them. And since I spent years economizing every single way I could I figured in these twilight days I was damn well going to have the bread I desired. Black, black pumpernickel and soft rye sans caraway seeds. Not such a splurge as it turns out; I have found both at the local food pantry. Also many artisan breads (including a to die for garlic foccacia) that for some reason are almost always available.
Second to never, EVER listen to or watch the newscaster on the NBC affiliate in this market. I'm sure the chap is qualified and just as reliable as any other talking head. I just hate him. That pointy nose of his makes me want to punch him in the face. And that nasal, squirty voice of his is like fingernails on a million blackboards. Since I do not own a television this is an easy vow to keep. And frankly there has never been anyone in my book since Walter retired. Peter Jennings was close but even he is gone. Alas.
Third I never wanted to be cold. So far so good; up until this week. Yee gods! My bed is directly under the window and it has been a struggle to stay warm all night. Once the blankets slide off my neck and shoulders I wake up shivering. The window panes are covered in frost by morning as are my canes. My CANES!! I keep a big pot simmering with clove water almost all day. Smells nice and the humidity gives the illusion of heat. I'd bake something to use the stove, but there is nothing to bake at this end of the month. Last night I even wore a watch cap my Darling Eldest made for me as a night cap. Warm head, frost bitten nose. I hope this weather passes. Or my work order to check the radiator gets to the top of the pile before spring.
First to never eat spongy white bread or perfectly square super grain bread that resembled twigs and pebbles. Not that these items were usually on the menu, they weren't. I just hate them. And since I spent years economizing every single way I could I figured in these twilight days I was damn well going to have the bread I desired. Black, black pumpernickel and soft rye sans caraway seeds. Not such a splurge as it turns out; I have found both at the local food pantry. Also many artisan breads (including a to die for garlic foccacia) that for some reason are almost always available.
Second to never, EVER listen to or watch the newscaster on the NBC affiliate in this market. I'm sure the chap is qualified and just as reliable as any other talking head. I just hate him. That pointy nose of his makes me want to punch him in the face. And that nasal, squirty voice of his is like fingernails on a million blackboards. Since I do not own a television this is an easy vow to keep. And frankly there has never been anyone in my book since Walter retired. Peter Jennings was close but even he is gone. Alas.
Third I never wanted to be cold. So far so good; up until this week. Yee gods! My bed is directly under the window and it has been a struggle to stay warm all night. Once the blankets slide off my neck and shoulders I wake up shivering. The window panes are covered in frost by morning as are my canes. My CANES!! I keep a big pot simmering with clove water almost all day. Smells nice and the humidity gives the illusion of heat. I'd bake something to use the stove, but there is nothing to bake at this end of the month. Last night I even wore a watch cap my Darling Eldest made for me as a night cap. Warm head, frost bitten nose. I hope this weather passes. Or my work order to check the radiator gets to the top of the pile before spring.
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