Monday, November 19, 2012

Bluster, Birds, and Drool has chosen the Hot Word for 2012: bluster.  Nothing fancy, not a new catchphrase or done-to-death word.  Just plain, uncomplicated bluster.  Which seems very apropos to me, considering we've just survived a grueling (and disgusting) political campaign filled with more bluster than intelligence. 

On the personal front, it's been so blustery here for the past two days, I've had more than a few moments to wonder if the boys and I will end up in Oz.  Serious bluster, winds steady at about 35-40mph, with gusts to 60mph.  One great thing: all the birch leaves that were piling up everywhere in the front yard are now in San Francisco...


This morning to walk the dogs, I parked at the soccer field, figuring with all the branches and limbs falling all over town, they would be safer from flying debris in the open.  I get out of the car, open the back to let them out, then notice something stuck in one of the soccer nets.  Oh holy crap.  It's a poor bird.  Blown into the net by the wind?  Not paying attention and flying into it accidentally?

With the wind swirling wildly, I can't tell if the bird is dead or alive. I don't want to go closer, but the poor thing shouldn't just hang there, how horrible. I cautiously approach; if it's alive I don't want to frighten it, or make things worse.   Oh, the poor, poor...

...pair of gloves.

Needless to say, I burst out laughing, totally relieved that my misconception wasn't a captured, mangled bird.  Then I stood for a moment, thinking about perceptions; optical illusions; sight versus mind.  No wonder eyewitness testimony is practically worthless.  Still.  Changing what I thought into what actually was, made my day.


Then I came home and made these:

The best chocolate chunk cookies in the world.  They're slightly fussy to make, and there's no instant gratification because you make the dough then refrigerate overnight.  But when they're finally done?  Oh man.  A bit crunchy on the outside, then soft and gooey inside.  Mouthwatering.  Truly.  These are swoon-worthy cookies.  They're also bigger than my palm, and because the recipe only makes 20, they're like treasures.  I freeze them, parcel them out to myself one at a time, then heated for 10 seconds in the nuker, they taste just-out-of-the-oven delicious.

Huh.  I seem to be drooling.  And since I have a cookie set aside for my afternoon treat, I'm going be thankful for a pair of gloves, being inside while the wind rages, and having 18 cookies stashed for another day.**

**Yeah, I said the recipe makes 20 and I'm eating one this afternoon which in another dimension would mean I have 19 in the freezer.  Not in my world.  Because of course I had to eat one from the first batch this know, just to make sure they tasted all right.

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