(no subject)

I love how various events in history occasionally sum up to, "And then we ran into each other and said, 'Hey, you're here, we're here, let's have a battle!' just because."

Today I cut myself with a bread knife. After several years in the kitchen without injuries, I have burned myself and cut myself in the course of approximately three days. Um, I hope the next option isn't for me to cut my hand off or splash myself with burning oil or something. (Although I think "cut with bread knife that didn't even really produce blood" is a step down on the scale from "OW OW OW MY FLESH IS BURNING.")

I find a disturbing amount of satisfaction in doing things the hard way rather than the modern technology way. Well, not all things -- but it's more fun to peel an apple with a paring knife than it is with a peeler, and definitely more fun to whack it around with a huge knife than one of those apple-coring+chopping abominations. And it's sort of fun to use a whisk to cream butter and sugar, as long as the butter's soft enough. (Also, I wasn't pulling down Maryland's handmixer for half a stick of butter. Anything under a full stick is overkill.)

I do kind of wish I had a fire to cook things on, though. I do at home; definitely don't here. Although autumn has come to New Orleans! The weather has dropped to the seventies. Although apparently tomorrow it will be back in the mid-eighties, so, whatever. Seventies is just about perfect, though: warm but not hot, beautiful and sunny and gorgeous.

Also, brown bread with blackberry jam is DELISH. I shall have to make more bread just so I can use the jam. Although I think I shall not burn myself on the pan again. GOOD PLAN HUH?

All my professors are on me to figure out whether I want to be a classicist or a historian. I DON'T KNOW I REALLY ENJOY BOTH OMG.