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What Time, I Mean Day, Is It? Also, Recipes

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 I keep remembering at random times that Swistle asked for the spinach cheese egg squares I made for brunch the other week, and not knowing how to work it into a post (because you know, my posts are otherwise so coherently composed and organized. Then Anne asked for the edamame sauce recipe that I thought I linked to in this post , but I had not. The spinach square recipe is here . The ginger garlic edamame recipe is here . I went through my considerable stash of notebooks a while ago and put one in the spare room to keep track of yoga and one beside my bed to use as a one-line journal. The yoga one has been fantastic - I rate them all according to difficulty and how they feel, and whenever I want a certain Yoga with Adriene that I liked I can actually find it now. The one beside my bed I used two or three times and then forgot about, which is why I can't remember what the hell I did last week. Sucks when the reason you need something is the reason you also can't remember to ...
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A Peek Inside My Mind (I'm So Sorry)

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 There is a terrible, terrible stage in my depression (unsure about others) where I have attained a very precarious balance and I am mostly okay, or would be if I kept my eyes on my own plate, so to speak, because I am most dreadfully prone to the most heinous kind of jealousy if not (this entire post will NOT be in the writing manner of an eighteenth century spinster's diary, I promise. I hope). With every book or blog post or Facebook status I read, I feel like everyone I know has navigated their life better, like every decision I made has been disastrous, like HOW did I not know that was how I should have done it all? All the sports I didn't learn, all the trips I didn't take, all the languages I didn't speak, all the children I didn't have, all the avocados I let go mushy. It's not that it really gets dug in anymore, because I know what's happening, but it is frightfully unpleasant (what is wrong with me) in the moment. This morning I woke up naturally (...
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Strange Cheesefellows. Or Something.

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 I'm getting worse and worse at posts that AREN'T just random.  My husband was away for multiple weeks again, and it's been a bit of an adjustment for him to get home and try to supplant my new bedmates. I guess this gives me official book slut status? My husband and I are working through it. I guess I realized that different libraries would have different borrowing and hold limits, but some of them WOW. Like Maya - THREE HOLD LIMIT? WHAT? Like do the people who run that library not understand reading?  So to sum up, at my library you can have: Ten ebooks or audiobooks out on Libby, for three weeks each. You can technically renew them if no one is waiting, although sometimes it still doesn't let you, and only once (I think); Two books out on Cloud Library (express ebooks), for one week, no renewals (but there's a workaround where you can return it and immediately borrow it again, and I'm not sure why they haven't closed that loophole); Unlimited paper books ...
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All I Do is Read Read Read No Matter What (WHAT)

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Remember a while ago when I took a tip from Sarah about researching new books coming in to the library and racing everyone to get to the top of the holds line? And decided to buck my trend of only borrowing ebooks because usually the new books only have paper copies at first? Anyone want to know how that's going? Like this: Plus four books at the library for pickup right now and two in transit. Every Wednesday after work I go to the library and return whatever I've finished and pick up the new books. We'll see how long I can keep this up before I cry uncle and pause the rest of it.  It's always interesting when you put books on hold based on recommendations from numerous sources, so you never really know what you're getting. Last week I got this tiny, beautiful little gem. It was an incredibly effective, subtly unsettling, cutting story packed into a short space of words.  I did not love this book, but I was frightfully amused at the fact that I have this bookmark f...
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Just Some Stuff

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 I'm not doing so great at answering comments in real time. I've tried, and then sometimes they format awkwardly so you can't tell who I'm answering, which is annoying. Also, I often read the comments at work and I can't answer them from there, and you know, remembering to answer then when I get home.... Anyway, some answers to recent comments: To Tudor - yes, I have watched Deadloch , enjoyed it. I have made a note of Wild Cards and might watch that too. My friend Sarah read the post on Facebook and reminded me of the show Somebody Somewhere which I strongly recommend to everyone who can access it - it's hard to describe but basically it's about regular people and I have both laughed until my stomach muscles spasmed and ugly cried watching it ("a spot of gentleness in our hard world" said one Substack). I also love that Bridget Everett is larger than your regular tv show star but that's not what the show is about, which is more unusual than i...
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Five(ish) For Friday

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1. I bought myself some flowers at Farm Boy last week to put on the table by my computer, and it was immensely cheering. This week I was there, and when I went to the cash the bouquets in front of it were $25. I was stuck between "things cost money, beauty is worth paying for" and "25 is a little steep." I decided I wouldn't get any this week, then as I was loading my groceries I turned my head, and across the aisle were ten-dollar bouquets that were just as nice (maybe older?). I looked up all the tips for getting flowers to last longer and they're doing well so far, and they make me so happy every time I look at them. 2. When we went for lunch last week and then Bath and Body Works, Pam and I mocked Sonia gently for buying eight hand soaps. Then I got home and kept looking at the shades-of-pink candles behind us in our selfie, and THEN I got an email saying the three-wick candles were half-price, and friends, mock on. I'm a tiny bit angry about the si...
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Rain nor Snow nor Sleet or Whatever

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We have a community mailbox that's around the corner and down at the end of the other arm of our crescent. Some people find this really annoying because they grew up with to-the-door mail service, but I grew up in a little town where the post office was about a five-minute walk, so it doesn't really bother me. I do really dislike (and Eve was incensed by) the weird makeover they gave our bank of mailboxes a few years ago, where they made each individual box wider and much less tall, and the mail slot is halfway down the bank instead of at the top and much narrower. Maybe people were stuffing inappropriately big stuff in the mail slot? I don't think I have a pic of the old one because it was pre-cell-phone. Anyway. When the kids were little, it was part of our routine to walk to the mailbox, in a long, meandering, staring-into-puddles and picking-up-sticks-and-acorns fashion. At some point they realized that sometimes fun stuff came in the mail. I had to temper their expecta...
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