Loaves and Fishes

The days slumber away beneath a mat of leaves and I drowse away the morning beneath an eiderdown. Whispers of winter creep through the bare branches of the curly willow outside my bedroom window. I can see beads of water glistening on the twig-tip in the pale light. The sun is little more than an asterisk in the distant sky.

But how nice it is to once again have the use of an oven, for cooking. We had done without ours for six months or more due to the exaggerated cost of repair (why does everything seem to operate at the whim of a printed circuit board, a chip? The only chip I care to think about is what Americans call a 'french fry'). But we gave blood a few more times and saved enough money to buy the replacement panel and now I am happily back to baking. A loaf or two of crusty bread every second or third day, and other 'goodies' as the spirit and my taste buds move me. Yesterday: Pear, mango, apricot, ginger muffins, and if I do say so myself they are/were quite tasty. I'd baked a few loaves in a cast iron dutch oven out in a fire pit but the outcome was always a bit of surprise, and there was little room to experiment with recipes.

As to the fishes part. I fired a clay fish yesterday in the Raku kiln and while the results were acceptable, the need for more experimentation or experience is obvious. But, as my beloved Mr. Robert Allen Zimmerman has sung so succinctly: "There are no mistakes in life some people say, that is true I suppose, you might see it that way". We live, and learn; that's the process.

Beautiful November rain and grey skies - time for another page of Finnegans Wake beside the fire.