Made roast cauliflower and mustard sauce yesterday: delicious and indigestible. More mustard, less oil, must try with other veg.
Someone is collecting books for a (presumed) literacy project. Will take anything and will pick up, so three boxes are now sitting on my porch.
To which end I flipped or skimmed a couple of things this afternoon- the very twee Chronicles of Avonlea, a Tanith Lee YA, a Ruth Rendell by any other name depressing psychological thriller- all of which are now happily sitting in boxes in the cold. My habit of picking things up off front lawns and Wee Frees that I might want to read some day has yielded to time's winged chariot. Life is now too short for Don Quixote and A Tale of Two Cities, but not for Dick Francis and Stephen Brust.
Lord but I miss having a keyboard.