Okay I promise nothing about labor or birth in this post. Promise.
My third batch of sourdough bread is in the oven right now. This in itself is a feat because the aparment oven has so many issues. I keep having to relight the damn thing with a match because it is always turning itself off, in addition to the fact that the spring to the door is broken so I duct tape it closed (ahh, duct tape, is there anything it can't do?) and then rig up this apparatus involving a chair to brace it closed. Yes I have no right to complain. I could have rented an aparment with a normal stove but instead I had to have to one oozing with charachter and all broken. But that's me.
I have to admit the contraption is pretty old and any stove from the world war two era still happily baking away deserves some degree of respect in an age of planned obslessence. Still--it is rather a love/hate relationship we have, that stove and I.
We had our first snow last night and it was really pretty this morning. It made me miss our woods in the snow out in Virginia, it always looked so pristine out the kitchen window. But the girls and I had a nice little snow walk and they spent twenty minute intervals out in the little tiny yard next to the aparment tearing about in the snow.
I'd better go tend to things. I hear some chaotic yells comming from the bathroom. And I know I misspelled "obslessence" and probably ten other words. I can never find spell check. . .