Hello, world. I'm still here.
I have some superfood scones baking. They're vegan, banana, walnut, dried blueberry, and whole wheat pastry flour scones.
This is a bad sign--not because they're vegan, or so superfood-ish. Bad sign because I'm not working.
I'm finishing up that 712 page book at work, and ... it just doesn't end. For any other book, it would be reasonable to end at 400 pages. So it is, often, quite literally twice as long as I imagine it will be. Well, it goes to the printer on Friday, and it will be gone from me then, for real. Even if I don't catch all the errors. It will go away.
Noah's home. He started school today, wahoo, send him your wishes for passing Japanese III. He's totally capable of passing (Hi Noah! I love you!), but you know, taking other classes gets in the way of his excellence at all things.
I made frozen yogurt with Fage Greek yogurt, which has, as its main ingredients, whole milk and butterfat, and yes, it was decadent and tasted a lot like frozen cheesecake filling. I don't want to think about it too much, so the cravings don't come back.
And in the middle of this work, this Noah, this cooking/eating, are other things: the secret book review I guiltily neglect; the proofreading I did for a freelance client at the last minute; the desperate urge to be in the ceramics lab making flat/gently curving things; the cats; the laundry; the health freak outs like, "Am I jaundiced right now? Am I about to faint? Am I so overstimulated that I really just spent five minutes, in the shower, doing nothing but letting the water hit under my fingernails?"; and yes, the scones. And a visit from a longtime friend and her husband-dude this weekend, and a possible drop-in from another longtime friend, and ... me. Wanting to be anywhere else, maybe a field, maybe a river bank, maybe the cloisters from my old church, in the middle of the afternoon, when no one was there, looking out the mid-century stained glass blocks, feeling the stone stay cold.
Oh and I'm reading William Gibson novels obsessively.