Cool Things

My awesome friends over at Tribal Lunar Speak have gone and made another excellent video.  This one is more in line with the type of humor that they'll be showcasing for the rest of the summer.

It's definitely weird, but certainly still hilarious.

And I'm actually in this one!

I was in the last one too, but keen eyes could actually recognize me in this latest installment.

My acting skills may not be amazing*, and my sleeve may accidentally be pushed up,  but I'm the only short cutesy girl my friends know.

And that's how I get jobs done.

(click the link for the bigger version)

*I was going for subtle, Okay?

Bread, and the Symbolism Thereof

One thing that I admire about my wonderful grandmother is how she always has homemade bread in the house. 


Yes, the store bought stuff is a wonder that revolutionized the way we see bread, but there is nothing I love more than slicing myself off a piece of that good food and drizzling it with honey-butter


Even the thought makes my mouth water. 


I think that I would like to do to that too when I grow up.  The small adventurous part of myself thinks that anyways.


Except I'm already twenty, which most people consider adulthood soooo.... right now?

I started off with this recipe here at the amazing Year of Bread Blog.  I chose this one simply because it seemed easy and I had almost all of the ingredients.


I didn't actually know that bread flour was a thing, so I simply subbed that out for regular old all purpose.  I also didn't have any honey but sugar seemed to work anyways.


It was definitely an easy put together, and I enjoyed the final product, but I think that I'm going to try to mix it up the next time around. 


One thing that I need to work on is kneading the dough.   Even with YouTube tutorials I have no idea if I'm doing it right, or even when it was finished.

I hope that this is something that can be fixed with practice.  Or perhaps with that magical sound 'Bread Flour'.


Look! I made stuff!

A Book on the Shelf

This is just a quick post I knocked out as I'm attempting to gather all the ingredients needed to make bread.*

Since the local thrift store is only about a mile away my friends and I go there quite often whenever the need arises for any hopeful but random object.

A week or so ago I was thumbing through the cookbook section when I ran across this

This is the record of a special moment between mother and son that I had somehow been given a speacial window into.

I wonder about how they both felt when he left home.

I wonder where he went, and how much use he found in this book.

I wonder why he didn't keep it,  even just for the sentimental value.

Standing there at DI I felt like I had a string of lightning in my hand, one that connected me to this Sheldon Martin, where he went on his mission, and his mother.

I put the book back on the shelf.

* you wouldn't think it would be so hard would you?