Mar. 1st, 2023

pshaw_raven: (Hannibal with Skull)
My pizza dough came out nicely, I have a ton of it, though. When the recipe calls for an entire kilo of flour, you know you're about to have fun. Anyway, I didn't actually bake the pizza on the steel like I'd said I was going to. The steel needs more seasoning right now. I'll try a regular skillet pizza this weekend.



I used some of the extra dough to make a couple of focaccia, which I took pics of. While I was shaping one, the dough tore - badly. Like a huge rip right through the middle. I rolled it back up, kneaded it, and rolled it out again. The other didn't rip, and had never been really kneaded. The method called for handling the dough gently to keep the trapped gasses, so you don't punch it down or anything. The kneaded loaf was noticeably more dense and chewy. The smaller one is the one I kneaded, and it's already got a piece cut out. The other loaf had a much lighter texture. The flavor was excellent. They're both topped only with olive oil, sea salt, and some shredded parmesan.

My second experiment is with freezing dough - I have about half the batch in the freezer now, and will thaw a couple out this weekend and bake them up.

In other Bird Adventures, I finally just shaved my head. I'd been thinking about it almost all day and finally I just got up while I was talking to Fox and said, "I'm going to shave my head." He helped me get the back and clean up some stragglers along my neck. I'm not a skinhead, I used the one-inch guard so that I have a sort of buzz cut. It feels great, both physically and psychologically. I always kind of hated my hair, hated caring for it, and hated the way it looked. I spent a lot of time as a kid getting grief from my mom about my hair, and she used to make me get perms, and stand around having it curled with a hot iron before school. Like anyone at school cares. I should have let her make good on one of her threats to shave it, LOL.

My only real "problem" is what I should wear when I run. My headbands are those long tube-like things that can be neck gaiters, so yesterday I put it on like a headband as usual, then gathered the extra fabric and rolled it so that it formed a hat. I may want to buy myself a hat for running. I'm partial to bucket hats, and that would keep the sun off my neck and face as well. Plus, a bucket hat is extra real estate for pins. I could put my "struggle bus" and "I'm fine" pins on it.

Fianlly, I was listening to one of my YouTube Music playlists, and Bob Seger's "We've Got Tonight" came up. I've heard this song most of my life - for whatever reason, the country station where I grew up played some classic rock in their mix. While I was listening, though, I realized what the lyrics actually were.

I'd always heard the phrasing differently, possibly because Seger takes a pause in the middle of his delivery that makes it sound like, "I know your plans. Don't include me." So as a kid I wondered why he was so anxious to be with some woman who had these plans he didn't want to be involved in. What's she up to, anyway? Anyway, in my forty-sixth year of existing on this planet I realized he means, "I know that what you're planning tonight does not involve me." It makes a lot more sense.
pshaw_raven: (Putin on a Kit)
1. I am absolutely a thousand percent done with this lab work bullshit. Today, they ran out of the proper blood vials and were having some brought in from their location at The Beaches. That's easily two hours away if the traffic isn't bad. Why do I even need twice yearly blood work when I'm taking one prescription, and that is an almost entirely benign blood pressure med in the lowest possible dose? I think I need to find a new doctor who isn't so enamored with labs.

I have ninety days of pills left, zero patience, and I'm just not doing this any more.

2. Hair splinters are so weird. I just pulled a bit of hair out of the heel of my foot. As you might imagine my feet are pretty calloused, so finding a bit of hair stuck in the flesh is a little like finding a blade of grass driven through a fence post.

3. So far, nothing has tried to dig up my potatoes.

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