One of the best things about moving back to my most-loved state of being, better known as Texas, is that rain has, once again, become a good thing. Three years in Oregon left me ready for sunshine, but a West Texas summer has me back to my old rain-loving self. Waking up to the sound of the rain on the roof is pretty amazing when you live in the desert.
I began my morning as I usually do… padding around the kitchen in my sock feet making a cup of tea–and Corey began this weekend morning as he usually does, by not beginning it yet. He is sleeping the sleep of the justly tired.
It’s 6:30 a.m. as I type this, dark and chilly outside. The house is only barely warm-ish at 66 degrees inside, but I won’t turn the central heat on yet.
First reason is that smell of burning dust that you get the first time you turn a heater on after long inactivity. Second reason is that, due to the peculiarities with the way this old house is arranged, our bedroom becomes a preview of hell when you have the heater on.
Last winter, we closed the vents in the bedroom completely and left the windows open in the bathrooms to keep air moving through there. Did I mention this house has two bedrooms and four bathrooms? It was a bunkhouse for cowboys once upon a time… We love it, but one of the oddities is that our bedroom is literally in the center of the house, no outside walls or windows.
So, to keep from frying my beloved like a pig on a spit, I’ve left the heat off and am wearing a fleece jacket while I type this.
When I get cold, I go in the kitchen, open the oven door and warm my hands–I’ve got the oven on 200 to create a warm environment for bread to rise. One of the hazards of the cool night was that the bread dough that I put in a bowl to thaw and rise overnight did thaw, but hasn’t gotten warm enough to rise yet.
When the dough has doubled in size, I’ll portion it out into sandwich rolls and cover it to let it rise again. If you want the recipe, you can go to my post #37. I have made one addition since I wrote that up–I throw in a couple of generous handfuls of whole wheat bran at the flour stage. Makes the rolls a little sweet, a little nutty-tasting, and seems to keep them more moist.
In between warming my hands, I spent the first hour of my day as I usually do, strolling around the Internet. It replaced my newspaper habit–no paper boys come this far out from town, and the nearest towns with newspapers only publish once a week anyway, so I had to replace my daily paper habit with something.
I follow pig-trails of information through all the little twisty turns, following up on whatever interests me. For some reason, this morning’s peregrinations had me questioning myself about why I don’t write about the controversial topics–religion, politics, Oscar Pistorious, the abuse headlines coming out of the NFL, and so on.
That self-questioning follows hard on the heels of a book I’m reading on my Kindle–Trust Me, I’m Lying: Confessions of a Media Manipulator. Reading it was informative as all get-out, but it also left me a little sick to my stomach. Mostly it described how one guy used the blogging world, among other things, to create both negative and positive publicity for his clients.
But, this blog is is not exactly in danger of becoming a Drudge Report or anything like it. I have no ambition to even try to make it that popular, which is a very good thing since most days I get something like two hits. Not two million, two hundred or two thousand. Two. My highest hit day was something like 27.
So, if you’re reading this, you are definitely one of the select few. I kind of like it that way.
I write because I don’t know how not to. You read this because… I don’t know. Why do you read what I write? Inquiring minds want to know!