Here I go again. I'm planning on making bread, after doing it yesterday.
I mean, I love the whole "domestic goddess" label but this is just downright confusing.
Meanwhile, leg's still sore. I'm on ibuprofen so it hurts less than it did, but I'm still going to be careful. No reason to go crazy.
I'm off to make bread!
Ta,
Bec
PS: So the bread did its thing. Was supposed to be a rectangle but wound up being more of a lump on the cookie sheet. I roasted up some desensitized garlic cloves and mashed them in the food processor with butter, oregano, basil, and grated parmesan cheese, then spread the whole mess on the bread I had just finished baking to make garlic bread.
So it was fresh bread with fresh garlic-none of the usual cheap stuff.
You'd think after all those hours of effort that SOMEONE would have at least nibbled a small piece besides ME. No. Neither of my parents even touched the stuff. I should have gone with the frozen shit downstairs and saved myself the pain and effort of working so damned hard when my leg is out of whack...
Maybe someday, someone somewhere will appreciate the amount of work I put into something. For now I guess I'm just as unappreciated as the people in the back of a fast-food joint.
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