Winter Pot Purri

Total cardiac fibrillation. I am drooling looking at the endless trail in this photo. It makes my heart punt for summer and it has given me an idea. It has inspired me to walk some of the local mountain trails with a picnic in my backpack this summer. Now that I am a winter walker, I am am overexposed to the seawall and trail walking could be an ideal summer strategy. Look at the trail in the photo. It's railed and smooth. Pit pat; pit pat. But uphill would kill me. The point of view of the photo is part of its appeal.

•

Wednesday night, after my lovely lunch in Vancouver’s best place for lunch, Le Crocodile, I made some bread. I got much better results than I did on my first attempt. I made three baguettes and this time, the hardest part was getting the loaves into the oven, so today I am going get a bread peel; most peels are made for pizza ovens, so they aren’t ideal. But there must be peels made for traditional ovens.

•

Dwight came for lunch on Wednesday. He got here at five after noon and when he arrived, I went to speak and not a sound came out. Having been home alone all day until his arrival, it always comes as a shock when my voice doesn’t work. I forget.

•

Mere months ago, I used to dread a winter day with no plans. It’s been replaced with an “oh boy a day in which I can do anything I want” attitude.

•

Last night I thought about what it will be like when an accident, diagnosis or a symptom makes me realize death is near. Yesterday I read about a 90-year old woman who, when her time came, decided against treatment and, instead, went on an incredible vacation. I hope I have that degree of spunk to face my end.

•

An HIV drug dosage is a function of my weight and I’d gained almost nine pounds at my last weigh-in. Now I am only 4 ounces over my prescription medication weight. I am celebrating with a choux pastry, macaron and champagne party on Sunday afternoon.

First "Electric" Bread

Well I tried making some bread here at home with my electric oven and I was disappointed in both the bread and myself. The crust was tough. At least I knew why; I proofed the bread in too warm a place. And the dough seemed limp; it would not hold its shape. I didn’t serve it to my guests on Sunday due to my dismissal of it.

I’d made two small buns and two demi-baguettes. I was so disappointed in them, I tossed the remaining dough into recycling instead of baking more baguettes and I set my dismal looking baking aside. The good news; I had a nice moist oven. My misting method worked excellently.

Sunday night, long after my guests had left, I decided to at least see how they looked inside. I wanted to see if the dough had risen nicely and had airy pockets. It had. Then I ate some and holy crap — it was delicious. I ate it all. Call me doughboy.

As with every skill, it is going to take lots of practice to get bread making down, but I am committed to baking all my bread henceforth. And the zucchini pecan bread I made will be back too, as well as the scones and pastries. Taking this course has proven to be a terribly wise decision.

As I write this post, I am off to Le Crocodile, one of my favourite restaurants and one of the best in Vancouver, for lunch. When I come home, I will be starting some Mother for future breads and making some bread using the wet yeast I have on hand.

Embroidery with Royal Icing

I want to just die.

Status Update

We have a rain warning today. My voice is better than it's been for the past weeks and so is my arm. I continue to struggle to get my weight to the level for which my prescription is measured, but I am making progress.

Yesterday I went for a four-hour walk. It was lovely. I walk slower than I used to. I’m still not keen about uphill and I never listen to music and still thoroughly enjoy walking. But four hours is my limit now. Just two years ago, there was no upper limit.

Near the top of the Oscar broadcast on Sunday night, a woman explained that they would be presenting the award in an order to mirror the movie making process and she said something very, very nice about screenwriters and it moved me to tears. I have always been desperate for approval and the selling of my screenplay was my career highlight. I took her comment personally.

Later, when they announced the nominees, they showed scenes from the movies for which they were nominated with words about the scene we were watching superimposed in white text over the image. It was humbling because compared to what I saw there, my screenplay seemed plebian.

But then I thought: These were scenes from films being made for hundreds of millions of dollars. My film is being made for three million. Their scripts are far, far richer in text that is not dialogue. My screenplay leaves much more to the director.

Sometime in the next four months, I will hear something about my movie script. The rights will have to be renewed, that’s why I know. Something will be revealed by the end of July.

Below are the first shoots of a Gunnera emerging in Stanley Park. The Gunnera is a huge prehistoric looking plant. It's leaves and stems are covered with spikes and it leaves grow to absolutely massive dimensions. They have long been a favourite plant but it looks like the alien doesn't it!