sea change, bread machines, cyberwings

This morning we turned stale superdense homemade bread into french toast, festooned with cinnamon and freshly ground nutmeg, slathered in recently-gifted real maple syrup (now that's a good friend) and, oh, say, three pounds of butter. Usually a day at home means I'm compelled to fill any free time with cooking but instead I'm lazing around, snake-that-just-ate-a-goat-style and firmly believing, this time, that I may never be hungry again. Hunger is sneaky like that.

I think I've gotten over my judgment that bread machine bread is tacky. Lesser than. Yes, it is an aesthetic abomination. Yes, sometimes I just set it on "dough" so I can then knead it and make it appear rustic and authentic when it comes out of the oven. But that's a pessimistic view. I see that now. Because here's the thing: you dump some stuff into this machine and it makes some bread for you. Hot bread. In your house. How about a little gratefulness?

Thank you, machine. Thank you very much.

I have tonight's batch of clothes all set and waiting in the cyberwings. They look just like this:

 

And if you haven't read about my sea change - in making and listing and pricing - you can read about it here. I've either lost my mind or found my way. I guess I'll know later? Maybe on my deathbed.

Please enjoy my new favorite thing ever: Lazy Evaluation Ranch. It's ... funny writing about goat poop? It's the first tumblr I've had a use for. Or, let's face it, even understood.