Someone phoned up to ask me to an underwear party. She's a sweetie, but...How truthful should I be, I wondered. The idea of browsing onesies and bloomers with women I don't know, at prices even I can buy an outfit for, (pardon the preposition), leads me to one level of honesty... "I usually buy my undies on special, and by myself now", which came out as " I usually buy my underwear on special, so I will probably not be a big spender". "No worries, just come for the chat." she responded. Then she added;- "The profits are going to help support our local .....(worthy cause)". I made enthusiastic noises and added the out, that I might have something on that day.... Yeah. Underwear...
Well the sourdough making is going splendidly. Here is today's batch, ready to roll into breadsticks. One thing I have noticed is that they needs to be eaten the day they are made, as they go quite hard the next day. Grissini- like, I suppose. So hard that even the ducks at the park had to let the bits soak in the water for a few minutes before they could swallow them, when G1 went yesterday.
I've been making 2 lumps of dough (one piece is too big for the dough hook to work with), and letting that prove in the bowl for about 3 hours. Then it gets punched down, rolled into sticks or left as loaves, and then baked. Easy! As long as you are around to check how fast the dough is rising.
At the gardens near his home, G1 experimented with my camera, and I think he got this shot of Jim at the rotunda. He and I were grappling for control of the camera, and he took several interesting shots. The rotunda has beautiful tessellated tiles, and iron lacework. Just behind where this was taken was a park bench, with a breadboard and table cloth on it, and a note saying " Reserved for a special birthday at 12." We were there at about 11 am, so missed the event...
Of course, G2 is not able to be at our Thursday jaunts, so we remember her in other ways. I couldn't resist this little number for next year...
Here they were exchanging secrets at Christmas
I love children. They have a level of honesty we must lose as we grow. But get them in the right mood, and they adore a story. It reminds me of Dad reading Coral Island to us when we were kids. Lynley Dodd's tale about the possum and the apple tree is a delight for children who have seen a possum near the fruit trees...
I heard a conversation the other day about teenagers who have " done everything " by the time they are 13 or so. How their lives seem to lack the wonder of a more innocent upbringing . The innocence of little children is precious....
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