Look at the stripe across the trail, a little above center in this pic:
That’s water flowing from the hill across the trail. From this vantage point, it looks like the water runs to the left. That’s the illusion: It runs to the right as it should since that’s downhill.
At a similar distance from the opposite direction, the water flow looks normal. For some reason, this drives me a little crazy. I keep trying to compensate for it.
The other morning I had a totally woo-woo silly moment: I’m making my life harder because I’m mentally trying to push water uphill when in reality the water is flowing easily downhill.
Doesn’t change a darn thing in my life, but does make me laugh. Years of yoga and this is what I get! Oooooommmmm.
Daylight Savings Time makes no sense to me and, if I’m reading my self-selected media stream correctly, it’s potentially harmful to one’s health.
It’s the ultimate someone-took-this-joke-seriously?! head scratcher. Ben Franklin certainly wouldn’t understand the peculiar logic behind embracing this.
So for a week every year, I rant and drink more coffee. . . not that those two things could ever be construed as linked. . .
When I’m finally ready to let it go, I embrace my niece’s humor and raise a fist in the air and say “I shake my fist at you!” Makes me laugh every time. And I move on.
Thank you for your indulgence.
Now that I’m ready to redirect that frustrative energy, perhaps I’ll make a banner like the one above from Three Potato Four.
Please meet Liza.
She’s a sweet, well-mannered, almost blind, now 9-1/2 year-old Shiloh Shepard we adopted two years ago.
At the time we didn’t know two things: She’s going blind and she has, in our veterinarian’s direct turn of phrase, s****y nails.
We’ve all adapted to the blindness for the most part.
But the nails. She’s at the animal hospital right now having yet another cauterization on a badly broken nail. At least I hope that’s where it stops. One bad infection last summer required surgery and a couple of weeks in a bandage.
Our ongoing quest is to find a way to make her nails strong enough to withstand a daily walk as part of a good dog life.
As I noted earlier, we’re trying soy milk. Coincidentally, today I read an article on a hand model’s regimen in the New York Times.
Imagine the veterinarian’s face when I ask about adding a sulfur supplement. Liza won’t mind another pill; her vitamins are first swiped in butter then wrapped in bread. And hopefully neither her nails or the budget will break for a bit longer.
Before:
After:
Apologies for the blurry ‘after’ pic. In a rush to get to the eating part.
My dough slicing left something to be desired. So smaller bits were smoodged together to make right-size pieces. That’s where I go freestyle.
Found this on the Interwebs earlier this week — and now I’m hooked:
We’ve all endured them: The weeks that start with so much promise and fall apart. Nothing horrific, just the water torture of small events insistently eroding time and energy.
Then Thursday rolls around and I’m scratching my head, wondering what I can get done.
At least I made a cake, but even that started with little promise. It’s King Arthur Flour’s Golden Vanilla Cake. The recipe begins with mixing the butter and dry ingredients. Initially the consistency didn’t look right so I upped the mixer speed – not thinking that there’s no liquid yet.
After cleaning up the cloud of flour that precipitated on the counter, then baking the cake, I wasn’t satisfied. Again, the consistency: edges drier than I thought they should be, center on the brink of too moist.
The frosting was fine, but by now I was obsessed with consistency and didn’t like the way it spread.
Even the first piece of cake elicited a ‘whatever’ response. Too soon after baking, I think. At this point, I was pretty much Lucy in Peanuts.
For some reason, the hubs was mad for it. Had a second piece late in the day.
By the next day, I was pleased with the outcome. And as the week goes on, the cake tastes better. Could even make it again.
There might be just enough cake to get me through the week. Thank goodness.
The zipper on one of the sofa cushion’s slipcovers finally, really gave out this time. After each of the last few washings the zipper has failed but reversibly so. To eek out one last use, I decided to stitch the cover closed. Inelegant but effective.
A miserable task at best, it was made worse by the shrunken slipcover. Trying to hold it closed and stitch was almost impossible.
The fabric is a thick, tightly woven twill, so pushing the needle through was an effort for every stitch. Unsurprisingly, this drew blood. The two splotches in the center of this image are from the third bloodletting.
Then, when I walked away for a moment, one of the cats chewed through the dangling thread.
I bow to the will of the universe.
Well, not so sure about coffee sugar. But as with almost all things Fishs Eddy, this made me smile. And that is a good way to start a Monday.
How about making this baking week? Baked good go well with coffee and I’ve just found two new recipes to try.
Nothing like focus to invigorate the creative mind.
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