After we dismantled Baby the Senegal’s cage and hauled it outside this morning so I could wash it down before the 90 degree heat hits later today, I came inside a bit tired and wet, reassembled the clean cage, and began preparing the mixes for my fourth attempt at baking a Gluten free loaf of bread that tastes good, is digestible and does not crumble when you try to slice it the next day. So far I have failed two times with my bread-maker, and succeeded once with a prepared package of ingredients to which I added liquids and baked in an oven.
As most of my dear readers are probably tired of hearing about my failed attempts to recapture my youth via reviving cooking skills I had when I was in my teens and twenties, I will spare you further bread updates until I either succeed or give up. Tomorrow, or Wednesday, I will begin the process of making bread dough by hand. In the interim, if I can knock a loaf together in the bread maker, we can use that for meals, etc.
David says I am sending him telepathic thoughts at three AM. One of us unintentionally wakes the other one almost every night. I tell him this happens so we can worry about something or someone together. I can go through a whole litany of “what-ifs” in 20 minutes, enough to keep me awake the rest of the night. David worries too. It does neither of us any good. In the cool light of day, the demons recede into nothingness.
My Mom used to wake up at the same time of the morning and worry. When she stayed with me after I was married with children, I could see her light shining under the door when I passed by it on my way to the toilet. One night I poked my head in and asked if she was okay. She had a rosary in her left hand and a cigarette in the right. Choking on the fumes, I told her, “You shouldn’t smoke in bed.”
I don’t believe in the God of Retribution your father does, she said. She died less than a year later. Of course, I know now she was thinking about death and what if anything comes afterwards. Mom was prescient if nothing else.
My daughter, a very creative person, has the same kind of advanced intuition or ESP or whatever it is. My granddaughter says she has it too. I don’t think I have much foreknowledge. My analytical mind searches for logical possibilities. Aim high in steering, David says. I’m a rules person, the kind of person who can see an accident waiting to happen. I would have made a good safety officer. I get really annoyed when others can’t see that many accidents and/or wrong turns can be prevented. What about you?