Bread Week

The bees are still out doing their thing, despite the cooling October temperatures.  They especially seem to love the Michaelmas daisies. We have a big clump of these daisies off the back patio, both white ones and purple ones, and it's humming at this time of year.

I spent yesterday in bed and on the couch, mostly reading. I hesitate to say it, but I might be feeling a little better. It's hard to tell because I've also been taking Lemsip, a cold remedy containing paracetamol, and that might be giving me a false sense of wellness. Lemsip, a powder mixed into hot water to make a lemony drink, is the absolute nectar of the gods to a sick person.

I did get up the energy to vacuum the house yesterday, so that's something. And the lawn really needs to be mowed. I might do it today if I feel up to it. (It's a small lawn!)

Dave, meanwhile, made bread from scratch yesterday. I don't think he's ever done this, at least not as long as I've known him, but he turned out a very well-formed and well-baked loaf:

Even Paul Hollywood would be impressed. If not Paul, then at least Prue. Dave has made pan bread several times before, but I really think this is the first time I've seen him bake a loaf with yeast.

In fact Dave has been on a baking binge -- he also made an apple pie on Sunday. I have pretty much restricted my food intake to soup, which is what really appeals to me now. Anything with a thin broth or anything acidic and I'm all over it. Before Dave made soup I was eating canned tomatoes with toast, and they tasted fabulous. Must be the Vitamin C? It's funny how the body knows what it needs.

Oh, but I don't mean to imply I didn't eat Dave's pie. Of course I did, and it's yummy.

The boiler inspector came yesterday and found a fault in our boiler -- nothing dangerous, just a leaky diaphragm that allows water to seep out of the system. He's coming back today to replace it. No one wants a leaky diaphragm.