Making ReadyThe squash is cooling on the marble. It is soft and sweet and peeling away from the skin from roasting so long. It still steams a little, and fills the house with a creamy, golden peppery smell. I have learned: I will save the tips of my fingers this time, and wait until it is merely warm before I go after it with a spoon.
Sitting on the fridge is a bowl with the beginnings of bread in. This is easy: 1/2 cup good wheat flour, 1/2 cup briskly warm water. Cup the palm tightly, and cover the bottom of the hollow of the hand with yeast, and then cast the yeast in. Mix with a spoon until uniform, and then give it one hundred brisk stirrings. Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and set to a warm place.
Something fell out of the tinfoil from the squash in the hot oven. It drilled down and hit the baking stone, setting up into a mound of carbon as big as a big cookie, and three times as tall. The house smells of that, too. I will need to clean the stone again.

All content under copyright by the author. Dancing is permitted. The strange deltic glyphs in the sand under tidal flow are a pleasure to watch in their deepening. Offer not valid in Kansas. We put it down and then we lost it. It all happens in the corner of the eye. Commentary accepted at pen@goob.com, although the traps are agressive and the pointy bits simply drip with dark liquour. We have a dog, but we do not own it. Thank you.