Altered Plans

There are plans, and then there is reality.

The plan for this morning was that I would start the focaccia (Why do they call it that? my daughter asked. And why can't Japanese people say the letter L? First, because 'Wonder Bread' was already taken, and second, probably not so much a physical inability as a neurological one -- just as when I do an English accent, I think I sound pretty good, but to an actual Brit, I'd sound phony. (By this time, she's off looking at a book and not really listening.)) While it was rising, I'd mow the lawn, possibly do a little weed-killing. Chemical warfare on the front forty.

That was before I stepped outside and felt the gentle rain.

At first, my feeling was oh, man! , thinking about now the grass is going to get high again, and while it's raining, I can't do weed - killer effectively. And then I chilled. I just stood there in the rain, feeling the mist on my skin. I felt the rain, and I listened to the birds, and I mellowed.

So now I'm indoors, letting the dough sit for a while. I'm warming up the oven (in an attempt to combat those nasty dough-rising gremlins who live in my kitchen), and in a little bit I'll go knead it a bit, and slide the bowl into the oven to rise for a couple of hours. In the mean time, I'll read -- either Solar Eclipse, which is still pretty good, though characters are popping out of the wood work -- turns out the hick sheriff, who used to work for the DEA until his wife was killed in an assassination attempt on him, thinks that maybe one of the federal cops who showed up when word got out about a family being killed was running them, because they weren't just any old family, but of certain Columbian drug line lineage, and the sheriff has always suspected that that particular cop was actually the orchestrator of the assassination attempt. And the women he met in Los Angeles becomes the one who found the bodies, after someone tried to run her off the road, and damn near killed her. And....woah.

Timer's going off. Gotta go.