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But I'll haul down my sail where the bays run together
The days are doing that thing where they run together, so that I have to think about it to remember that Wednesday was the night I e-mailed ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel such miracles of the internet as fountain pens that look like Tom Hiddleston and the complex history of the saxophone and Thursday was the afternoon I walked up from Harvard Square after my doctor's appointment to see Dean for an hour at his house with the tree that's eating the gutters and today was Friday and the major non-apartment-related event of the day was walking to Inman for dinner with Rob, because two people cannot in fact finish a clay pot of Muqueca's feijoada between them, but they can make a damn good try and take home great leftovers afterward. The weather has been fine and sunny and cooler than I think of August, so I am shaking off slight September ghosts each morning when I wake, but I still want to go to the sea. There have been fantastic clouds every evening. Tomorrow it looks like I will have to get up agonizingly early, but rushthatspeaks has invited me to spend the afternoon making baked Alaska with them and tilivenn and unless I just need to fall over dead in the afternoon (and possibly even if I do), I plan to accept. Sunday is the MIT Swapfest and the Anarchist Society of Shakespeareans' Shakespeare Slam, both of which I'm going to see if I can attend. I feel at once as though my life is going past me at a faster speed than I can grasp it and as though things might be actually starting to happen. It's also possible this is just a side effect of sleep deprivation. These past six weeks have been worse than I've had to deal with in years. Have some Edward Gorey Jeremy Brett.
derspatchel such miracles of the internet as fountain pens that look like Tom Hiddleston and the complex history of the saxophone and Thursday was the afternoon I walked up from Harvard Square after my doctor's appointment to see Dean for an hour at his house with the tree that's eating the gutters and today was Friday and the major non-apartment-related event of the day was walking to Inman for dinner with Rob, because two people cannot in fact finish a clay pot of Muqueca's feijoada between them, but they can make a damn good try and take home great leftovers afterward. The weather has been fine and sunny and cooler than I think of August, so I am shaking off slight September ghosts each morning when I wake, but I still want to go to the sea. There have been fantastic clouds every evening. Tomorrow it looks like I will have to get up agonizingly early, but rushthatspeaks has invited me to spend the afternoon making baked Alaska with them and tilivenn and unless I just need to fall over dead in the afternoon (and possibly even if I do), I plan to accept. Sunday is the MIT Swapfest and the Anarchist Society of Shakespeareans' Shakespeare Slam, both of which I'm going to see if I can attend. I feel at once as though my life is going past me at a faster speed than I can grasp it and as though things might be actually starting to happen. It's also possible this is just a side effect of sleep deprivation. These past six weeks have been worse than I've had to deal with in years. Have some Edward Gorey Jeremy Brett.
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But I think it's probably a meal.
This is as far back as I'm looking on LJ to catch up on being gone. I hope you've been mainly well--I see you're still apartment hunting; I hope you trap yourself one with nets and darts, or impale one with spear and javelin, or whatever it takes, soon.
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It is the national dish of Brazil and it is rich and savory and wonderful: black beans and different kinds of beef and pork stewed for so long that everything cooks down to bubbling black-purple tenderness, served at Muqueca with collards, fried plantains, and farofa on the side. Maybe if we'd skipped the appetizer of fried yucca, we could have finished it, but we're not even sure about that. (Also, fried yucca.) I'd like to learn how to make it, because Brazilian food is something I know very little about except for Alison sometimes cooking or making dessert on Movie Nights, but I suspect I'll need a clay pot.
I hope you've been mainly well--I see you're still apartment hunting; I hope you trap yourself one with nets and darts, or impale one with spear and javelin, or whatever it takes, soon.
Thank you.
(There was this; otherwise it's been mostly housing and watching things.)
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(And many, many thanks for the link to the entry on August 8th)
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If I get a good recipe, I will let everyone know.
(And many, many thanks for the link to the entry on August 8th)
(You're welcome. I also wrote about Hannibal. I still haven't seen more than the first episode, though.)
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I have wanted to make a feijoada since I gave up kashrus and converted to sausage! I will gladly participate in any incarnations you and
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I've still only seen the first episode! It was fantastic, though!
I have wanted to make a feijoada since I gave up kashrus and converted to sausage!
This should happen.