August 20th, 2010

woods, Elizabeth, camera, April

From Twitter 08-19-2010


  • 08:58:49: Understand it's easier for convention organizers to do schedules in Excel. But not all writers HAVE Excel & thus can't open file.
  • 09:08:49: Luckily, the new Shiny can read them...whew!
  • 12:30:59: Was able to open the Excel files with new Shiny, so all is well. Opened, printed, stapled, ready to take to Dragon*Con.
  • 12:55:39: Note to self: Be VERY sure which burner you've turned on unless you like scrubbing stuff burnt into the pot and seeing smoke rise.
  • 14:59:25: RT @kaysea14: Look at the surnames http://t.co/f3Pcj4O
  • 22:03:33: An evening spent with two writer friends--priceless. (The talk? Fight scenes, prisons, Bolshevik revolution, car chases, agents, editors.)
  • 22:39:17: RT @kaysea14: This is so so true. RT @Quotes4Writers “Don’t get it right, just get it written.” James Thurber (1894-1961)

Tweets copied by twittinesis.com

woods, Elizabeth, camera, April

Click-Beetle Nights

In the season of click-beetles in the house, the nights are full of "click....click....click...BUZZZZZZZZ....thwack/scrabble....click....click....click....click.....click...."

The first year we had them in the house, I couldn't sleep.   They are clumsy flyers (OK, better flyers than I am!)   who sound very loud, like a big angry wasp, and then they whack into something and fall down, often on their backs, and start clicking.   Then they stop clicking...then they fly again, banging into the light fixture overhead, or a lampshade or books on the bookshelf, and then you hear the scrabbling of tiny hard beetle legs, and then the sound of them falling and hitting something else, and then...click...click....click....click...   Of course, sometimes they fall on the bed, or on the person in the bed.  I'm not thrilled with things going BUZZZZZZZZ......thwack....and then landing on me.    Or landing or falling on the soft parts of the bed and then there are little wiggly prickly feet exploring my skin.   

Now...I manage to sleep, but if I'm up too late, they're already making noise when I go to bed and it takes longer.  Last night one BUZZZZZZZZed across the room right after I'd turned off the bedside light, thwacked into the head of the bed, and I heard the little plop on the pillows.  Turned light back on, found the intruder, and that one bit the dust with the help of a book.  It was not, of course, the only one, but the next BUZZZZZZer hit the wall across the room and started clicking from behind something.  I went to sleep.  


woods, Elizabeth, camera, April

A Tale of Two Yeasts

So...after the previous not good batches of bread done with the bulk yeast, this morning I set out to try again, increasing the amount of yeast.   Initially, the yeast bubbled up nicely in its mini-sponge bowl (I had mixed 2 tablespoons of yeast with four tablespoons of flour and a little sugar, then added the warm water and stirred it up.)  I went on and committed to the whole four cups whole-wheat flour, plus enough white flour to make a thick batter, and the rest of the ingredients,  stirred madlyand gave it time to bubble up.  It did.   I thought maybe this had done the trick.

But as soon as I added more flour, got it sort of balled up and onto the counter for kneading, I knew it wasn't...it didn't feel right under my hands.  It was wanting to tear into bits.  Nothing to do at that point but go on...did my best to get it to first rising, put it in the big dough bowl in a warm place,  checked on it, and it did double.  But when I punched it down, it  let out a weak feeble hiss, not the healthy gust that a happy dough gives.   I messed it around on the counter, trying to restore its intent to rise, shaped the loaves and put them in the pans, and as soon as they'd risen to just lift the covering towel, put them in the oven. 
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