Pat-a-cake

I have just returned home (yes, it’s past midnight) from a choir rehearsal. My feet are killing me. I just want to go to sleep. There are too many negative things I want to say about this upcoming concert, so I just won’t bother. But Dr. M. and I were chatting away in Hebrew and I did use the word harah when I described what I thought of most of the music.

Yesterday my bread machine produced a fallen loaf of not-quite baked bread, which is the signal that it is ready to slough off its mortal coil. When that time finally arrived, I said I would simply go back to making bread the old-fashioned way, and today, for the first time in years, I produced two loaves. They weren’t up to my regular snuff, so I will experiment until I get the results I used to, before the bread machine turned me into a lazy baker.

The horlogiste came tonight while I was out at choir practice and fixed the grandfather clock. It has been many months, maybe almost a year, since it last worked, and it’s comforting to hear the steady tick tick tick. I’m looking forward to the chime on the hour. Sadly I missed midnight, as I was driving an alto home who lives nearby.

Okay, the diary is updated and I’m going to check my email and then go to bed. G’night folks!

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