magid

I've made three batches of bread so far this weekend. One was regular white, rye, and kamut flours, with multi-grain flakes and sunflower seeds as add-ins, which became some rolls and a big round loaf. One was white flour with bulghur (that wasn't soft enough to add to the earlier batch in time), which became thickish flatbreads. And the third is rising, another tri-flour batch, but no add-ins (well, except some freshly ground black pepper), destined to become flatbreads with leftover roasted onions on top.

Even rereading Bill Bryson's writing can make me giggle out loud. I should probably bookmark those pages for a future story reading.

Two late nights in a row, far past my usual bedtime; I wonder how long it will be until I'm not particularly functional... At least I had fun both nights (and finally got to dance (and of course, the music I knew better came on after I thought I should leave....)! I hadn't brought shoes for dancing in, though, so ended up barefoot, which has its own challenges).

Blah, blah, blah; being tired means this post is not going to be zingy - the tired mind is not as interested in creative prose...