My yoga teacher is out of town for a month but I'm still trying to keep up with at least 15 minutes of yoga a morning. I don't remember the asanas quite right, and yesterday I felt a wrench in my back. By the end of the day, my back was officially sore. Getting out of bed was interesting this morning, but it seemed to work itself out over the course of the morning.
I decided that if I don't have warp, I can at least cut strips of fabric. I reached down this box from the shelf and set it on the weaving bench, but when I bent slightly to lift it and it's companion box, my back went into spasm. This is a new and unwelcome experience for me. I am out of commission and will rest until this passes, though I hate it. My mother used to say, "Can't you sit still?!"
The only one enjoying my fabric today is Charlie. I'm still thinking about placemat fringe. I like the way it looks - a lot! On the other hand, she had warts - that's what my mother would have interjected. I'm saying however, on the other hand, hems are serviceable and look it. I'm taking Pooh approach for now - thinking, thinking.
These are oyster mush-
rooms from our CSA basket. Until I read the accompanying sheet, I had no idea they even existed. They are the strangest looking fungi, but they're supposed to taste like smoked oysters and I wanted to see if that's true. It's true! I sauted them with onion and asparagas, added diced ham and made a simple 2 cup white sauce with only salt and pepper, served over pasta. Five ingredients - that's it. It was crazy good.
Ever since I redis-
covered the joy of cooking in January, I've become increas-
ingly more obnoxious about it. Tonight I snagged this bowl to serve in. We bought it years ago in Oregon and it's been on display in the entry ever since. But no longer~
One of my favorite things about the San Francisco Chronicle is the pink sheet. I pick the paper up after church and then spend rest of the week digesting it. I love this part called All Over Coffee, where an artist's submission is displayed. If you click for big and see the print across the bottom, you'll see why I've contact the artist to order my own copy. I know it's just a print, but I want it anyway. It speaks to me. (p.s. My title is a Monty Python reference, in case you're unfamiliar with them.)
Life is just a chair of bowlies
15 hours ago