2. But in those fine clear days the Front Lawn Dollar Store and Libraries got underway again. Last week I scored two glass glasses (could have had more, but I'm not greedy) and on Sunday a Tiffany lamp. I've no need for a Tiffany lamp, but it has a white globe attached to it which I might be able to use on the kitchen light, whose globe I broke back in '02. I picked up an Inspector Morse omnibus (sometimes I have to ignore my own No New Books rule), put out eight variegated volumes of my own, and at twilight brought in seven. -_- Yesterday, walking home in beginning snow along Yuppie Row, I saw that someone had abandoned a pile of books under a tree. I hastened to brush them off, intent on rescue, but they were Stephen R. Donaldsons, so I left them to pulp.
3. Succeeded in making decent roast vegetables on the weekend. Carrots, celery root, yams, and beets-- the latter separately because they take three times as long as the former. My roast veg have always burned, or browned the tin, or done other unspeakable stuff like that, in spite of oiling the baking sheet or using parchment. The secret is my brother's: coat them, not in enough oil to make sure they don't stick and to give me indigestion, but in a mixture of bouillon and a tablespoon of oil, and cook in a roasting pan. Also, never mind that the daycare cook does her broccoli and cauliflower at 400F for an hour: 350 max for as long as it takes, stirring regularly.
4. As far as I know Caitlin Kittredge is not a pseudonym of Suzanne McLeod, but oh my god do they sound alike, and OMG do their heroines not have the sense god gave a gnat, and why in heaven's name must these double threat magick!werewolves or vamp!fae resort to dialogue like "'Stop that!' I cried" or "'If you touch her I'll make you regret it!' I growled", and similar unconvincing lines. IIRC Kittredge is worse than McLeod, but both are bad, and I can't begin to think how Aaronovitch can bear to read either of them.
5. My downfall lately has been Starbuck's peppermint lattes. Which are calorific and costly. Cleaning kitchen shelves a week or two back unearthed a bottle of peppermint oil, evidently the real thing. Now I put it in my cocoa (van Houten's-- accept no substitutes) and die of bliss. Calorific, but does not cost. Alas, neither does it have a coffee shop around it. For all my 'winter is inside' belief, like an 18th century gentleman I need to go out daily to a coffee shop to feel that life is worth living. Not that people talk to you at coffee shops here, and doubtless a good thing too, given what hangs out at Second Cups and Starbucks. The local indy is full of euppies (elderly urban professionals), who are sometimes interesting but mostly, umm, euppy.