Treats

Spend nice weekend working on Pie Crust technique. Make rhubarb tart and quiche made with bacon, asparagus and two kinds of cheeses. Asparagus and rhubarb from the Farmer's Market. On Sunday night Dave and I agree that we really Ought to watch what we eat. The era of the afternoon cookie has ended. We do however, have very small slivers of the rhubarb tart. Dave serves tart a la mode. This morning, wake up feeling that Mystery has been woefully neglected and feel that ought to take advantage of new flexibility in job so call and tell Libby that will be in late this morning. Add, I will be Working from Home, email me if Anything Comes UP, because think it sounds impressive. Libby, however, snorts derisively and says Whatever. This makes me very angry indeed but can think of nothing to say but Well. After get off phone think up several sharp and witty speeches to put Libby in her place. Try to lodge speeches in brain to be used next time the opportunity comes up but know very well that very likely language will fail me once again. Because am angry, it takes me a while to settle down to work, but finally find comfortable position on couch--pillow wedged behind lower back, Jenny on feet at other end of couch--can't think that this is comfortable for her--get busy revising scene in which the river is rising in a flood, threatening to wash away the Evidence of the crime. The main character and his sister are close to figuring out who dun it, the boy playing the foil to the girl's Sherlock. Emerge from experience ravenous. Eat hefty portion of left over pies from this weekend. Feel that writing very draning that thus must burn heaps of calories (Later in day logic does not hold up at all.) Jenny begs but am greedy for the quiche and feel, hypocritically, that she is due for a diet herself. After licking fingers, give her a bite of her own dry dog food to try to trick her into thinking she's eating a treat. This ruse naturally doesn't fool her for a second.