Committed a near faux pas tonight. I was sitting at the computer typing an impassioned diatribe about the Catholic position on birth control (long story) when an elderly couple from our church walked in, Bibles in hands. I had a moment of panic that they’d heard we’d taken up poker and had come to stage an intervention: but fortunately, before I could ask them to what I owed the pleasure of their company, they were followed by another elderly gentleman from our church with a Bible in his hand, and I remembered: this was our turn to host prayer meeting.
By what can only be described, given the circumstances, as Divine providence I had cleaned the bathroom this afternoon on a whim, and had a cake tin full of triple chocolate cookies. More fortunately still, I had not yet gotten around to hennaing my roots. I’m not entirely sure I pulled off the impromptu gracious hostess act as it is, but it would have been far more difficult with a plastic bag on my head and green eyebrows.
The panna cotta… I’m not quite convinced about the panna cotta. I think it was a little too firm: one expected to find a goldfish or similar preserved within for making specimens of. And I think milk chocolate might be more promising than white. Still, the panna cottas blooped out of their molds pleasingly like little volcanoes, and I spooned caramel sauce over them, and calories were ingested, and all was well. For my next project, I am going to learn how to make bagel crisps. I like ‘em. And they’re nearly five dollars a packet, which is more than my sorry life is worth.
What did the snortlepig do tonight? Counted to eight. I was confused by this, as I’ve never counted with her past five for toe-related reasons; but I think she probably picked it up from a vocal exercise we do at singing group. We count up the octave and back down. The snortlepig tends to leave out number 5, but I am impressed with her nonetheless. We should do a vocal exercise based on Roman numerals next, or the dates of kings.
Miriam Says:
Kovac Says: