Writes all the things. Most of the things never write back.
There’s a reason that some things get done at the last possible moment.
Sometimes it’s because yesterday was completely consumed by the things whose last possible moment was — yesterday,
And those didn’t get done before yesterday because the day before THAT was completely full with gotta-do-it-today-because-tomorrow-is-not-an-option items.
My friend Terri Lynn Coop has mastered the secret of perfect hard boiled eggs.
I don’t know her secret, but I’m happy to share mine.
Take this as advice from someone who sometimes boils dozens upon dozens at a time.
(That doesn’t make me an eggs-pert, but I’m pretty good.)
Bring the water to a boil. Add some vinegar and salt to it.
While you’re waiting for it to come to boil, pierce the large end of the egg with a pushpin or something.
Slip the eggs into the boiling water.
Cook them your usual time.
When that’s over, pour off the hot water and add cold water to cover.
Pour THAT off and change it again. Or just put the pan in the sink and keep flowing cold water over it.
Start peeling those eggs when they’re just cool enough to handle. Smack the large end against something firm and start peeling there.
And remember – the freshest eggs are the hardest to peel.
I learned today that dogs may understand a human vocabulary of 150 words or so.
And I thought, I hope those 150 are the most utilitarian, and not something esoteric like sesquipedalian.
I mean, sesquipedalian is a fine word, but a dog’s not gonna have that many chances to hear it and act on it.
it’s pretty easy. if I can find fhe cookbook I learned it from, I’d cite it. But the technique is simple, and scalable.
Start out with a saucepan appropriate to the volume you’re gonna need. I’m going to guess that’ll be a 2 1/2 or 3 quart saucepan, especially if you want leftovers. And who doesn’t want leftover rice?
We’re going to start with one cup of rice.
Add not quite twice as much water. Let’s say, 1 3/4 cup to start. Adjust subsequent batches to taste.
Add your additions to taste. I add a little salt, a little turmeric, maybe a little butter.
Now: bring it to a boil.
Take the heat down to where it is barely simmering – medium low on my stove.
Put a lid on the pan, barely cracked. Set your timer for 15 minutes.
When the timer goes off, take the pan off heat and set the timer for another 15 minutes. Close the pan lid on the pan.
That’s it. You’re done,. When that’s done, your rice is done,. Fluff it up with a fork and serve. it won’t be sticking in the pan or burnt on. It’ll be… perfect. If it’s not quite perfect, you might need to use a little more water, or use a little less, to your taste.*
Enjoy!
You go to the store, and you can’t buy the thing you want to buy at the price you’re used to pay, because they are out.
Next to it – an acceptable substitute, for a little more, and that is in stock.
You might want to buy it. Because next week, they may be out of that as well. And there you’ll stand, with money, and nothing to buy with it.
And — c’mon. Don’t get down to your last roll of toilet paper before you add toilet paper to your shopping list. You know better. Yes you do.
If there’s one thing I know about the unexpected, it’s that you should always expect it.
Its precise form will reveal itself to you at its convenience.
I can be my own worse enemy.
And why should I work that hard, when there is no shortage of volunteers for the position?
Note to would-be werewolves:
Be prepared. If you should unexpectedly find yourself changing into a wolf, know your plans for recording the process. That’s gonna be worth some money later.
“Do not abandon yourself altogether either to instinct or to will. Instinct is a siren, will a despot. Be neither the slave of your impulses and sensations of the moment, nor of an abstract and general plan; be open to what life brings from within and without, and welcome the unforeseen; but give to your life unity, and bring the unforeseen within the lines of your plan.”
~ Henri-Frédéric Amiel
Hurting yourself seems so redundant in a world fraught with opportunities intended to hurt you, or just hurting you casually, as incidental damage.