my buttons are your buttons

Applying for grants pushes at least eleven of my twenty-nine buttons. Getting rear-ended by some ditzy guy on my way to yoga did not help. Fortunately the damage was minor– just a couple of scratches. But I’m cranky about it. My new car! (Motor vehicles = massive guilty pleasure.)I did my sun salutes. I breathed. It helped. I am almost human. Then I went to the pink house to drop off a sacro wedgy for Aruna. (Ask me if you’re interested. These things are amazing.) Thought I’d feed the dog and cat, since it was supper time. Animals happily munching away. I went to the community notepad to document the feedings only to find Sharron with 2 rrrrs’ had been there before me. Oops. Oh well, the fat cat will get fatter. The skinny dog– well, it can’t hurt her can it? Speaking of ditzy…. Uh. Hi!
I drink wine. I nibble salami and tuscany ham, walnuts and raisins while I cook. It’s going to be a good supper I think– a stew of buffalo sausage, lentils, squash, carrots, green and yellow beans, a bit of tomato, garlic, thyme from my porch, some bay leaves, lovely salt from my real true visit to Guerande, and the secret ingredient– a pinch or two of Madras curry. My dear South Asian friends: look away. I know Madras curry is a cheat. I know you’re not supposed to put it in stew. Especially meat-eating Western hippie type stew. But it perks things up so nicely. My hybridities are getting away on me. Mea culpa, mea culpa. The brown rice is nearly done. See you tomorrow!

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