too hot, too tired

It was too hot and I was too tired to bake anything this week. I feel only slightly bummed to not be keeping up on my project, but there's been a lot going on in my life. Sometimes one needs a break.

I have been writing, though. Howard and I wrote mini stories today, which was a lot of fun. I'm also working on putting together some of my poetry, which is generally terrible, as you'd probably expect, but I'm also thinking of some of it as prose poetry. The first prose poem I read was "The Life of a Day" by Tom Hennen. Later, my cousin Brienz, whose long silences are broken by surprise books in the mail, sent me a copy of Gary Young's collection Pleasure.

Last week I did bake. I made an orange juice cake. It was delicious, but I only had a slice or two before the flies got it. I threw it all away. I will have to make it again. It was like a tasty coffee cake.