words and walnuts

I'm feeling a bit disconnected today and not sure why. My non-fiction writing class was good. We discussed why we write. A most interesting subject. The students ranging in age from about twenty to eighty-six are beginning to reveal themselves and, as usual, I am surprised at the level of talent displayed when the atmosphere is non-critical and supportive. We have Bonnie Black to thank for that. As for me, it keeps me on my toes and writing every day. I am easily diverted so this is a good thing. Also, I suspect that Bonnie is an organized person and I'm hoping that some of that rubs off on me. She brought in her own four identical spiral bound notebooks (in different colors) that are each designated for a specific purpose and I wanted to do that for myself. So after class I drove to WallyWorld and bought a trio of similar notebooks (they didn't have a fourth color and I didn't have a fourth subject anyway).

I have notebooks of every size and style scattered all over the house and am usually searching for one or the other or some quote or thing that I wrote that has all but disappeared. Now all I have to do is decide which color belongs to what subject, label them and try to remember their existence! I vow to get organized. And that includes my yarn stash and unfinished projects.

Husband unit is still in recovery and last evening, quite uncharacteristically, he was craving something sweet. Not willing to drive to the store at 7p.m., I scrounged around the kitchen and found the ingredients and recipe for a walnut and raisin clafoutis (sounds like the clapotis I'm knitting). I've only made it once before, but it turned out well. It didn't quite satisfy his sweet tooth, but we both ate too much (mine with a glass of Chardonney) and today I bought him a family-sized Hershey milk chocolate and almond bar. Now he's talking about steak and mashed potatoes. Oh dear! I don't eat red meat or potatoes. The thing is: he doesn't gain an ounce no matter what he eats. And I do love good food. I'm doomed.

in his sickbed
he dreams about chocolate
recovery will be sweet