"It's the most wonderful time of the year..."

This?

Turned into this. And after I make another rectangle, I will attempt to connect them into a poncho for my niece. All you expert knitters out there, do NOT laugh. Or if you must - and I don't blame you - do it quietly. Thank you. My knitting ego is very fragile at the moment.

Also, I have to finish the poncho, and this by Christmas, so posting may be as light as it's been, until maybe just before Christmas.

Just be glad I didn't discover plastic canvas, or everybody'd be getting toilet paper cozies or something.

"Man shall not live by bread alone..." *

If you don't eat anything all day because you are worried your stomach is still recovering from the Plague this weekend, and then decide to have tea and a couple of slices of toasted, buttered, and apricot-jammed fresh Italian bread for a snack at 4pm, and your baby downs an entire slice of such treated bread himself - don't...um, what? Were the heck was I going with this? You wouldn't BLAME me, because this is delicious and almost good for you. Anyhoo, oh, yes, BREAD.

We have the best Italian bread ever, baked by a teeny bakery in the pseudo-burbs, called Mancini's. My mother-in-law will argue for Sanchioli's (but OF COURSE she's wrong, it's too mushy and soft), and I know people who swear by Rimini's (too crispy-crusted and oily), but I am here to tell you that Mancini's is the BEST. Period. End of discussion. (My baby would tell you the same but his mouth is full of bread and jam right now.)

Which brings me to my second point. (Ha! Like how I did that, acting like I HAD a point?)

Bread Alone by Judith Hendricks.
Wynter Morrison, once a promising baker's apprentice and talented breadmaker, is ditched by her obnoxious executive husband and takes off for Seattle, where she supports herself by working as a baker's assistant.

That's the bloodless synopsis. There are crusty (ha! I kill myself!) work colleagues and devoted old friends, and a quaint old apartment she makes her own, and a couple random quirky characters, and of course love interest(s), but really, all you need to know about this book are the following two facts:

1. It is perfect vacation reading. In fact, it is so perfect that that is where I discovered it. It was sitting on the bookcase in the rec room at our vacation cabin rental, next to the fine literature of Danielle Steele and Frank Peretti. (There was also a remarkably extensive collection of Silhouette romances.)
I picked it up on a lark on Saturday morning and gobbled it down in two days, which, with four boys, and hiking and fishing and making S'mores and birthday celebrations going on around me, is fairly impressive.

2. This book will make you hungry. Very hungry. I ate an entire Trader Joe's Pound Plus bar of milk chocolate with almonds, and the rest of the pan of Terzo's birthday brownies, in two days while reading it. So prepare yourself.

But with Mancini's (NOT Rimini's or Sanchioli's).
Just Mancini's, and, maybe, a little apricot jam.

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*Matthew 4:4 (King James Version)

"My dear doctor, I’m surprised to hear you say that I am coughing very badly, because I have been practicing all night."*

So it's come to this.
I seem to be posting once a week.
I used to post once a DAY.

Is it that I am busier?
That I just don't care?
That Facebook has become, as another blogger put it, the lazy blogger's blog?

I guess I just don't have a lot to say, of any import or interest.
Here's what I got:

1. I started Meg Wolitzer's Ten Year Nap tonight. Tedious, self-absorbed, and didactic do not BEGIN to describe the book or its characters.

2. I also started Eva Ibbotsen's Island of the Aunts. I find Ibbotsen's books hit or miss, but this is a hit. Yes, it's a kid book but that may well be where my brain is these days.

3. I started knitting a poncho for my little niece - of course I picked different weight yarn than the pattern recommends, so I am winging the measurements. But it's a PONCHO. How specific could the measurements have to be? (I want to make one for myself but worry about the effects of a poncho on a full-grown woman.) And I don't know what I would do without Suse or Shirty for knitting advice. Thanks, you guys!

4. Huh. Were those gunshots?

5. I bought The Queen of Bedlam, The Amazing and True (or something) Adventures of the Hunt Sisters, another copy of Jen Lancaster's Bitter is the New Black, and Sophie Kinsella's Cocktails for Three (only it's her other pseudonym...alter ego...whatever...) at the thrift store last week. And a video of "The Mighty Ducks" which we watched Friday night and enjoyed very much. Also Primo's third winter jacket, Quarto's first winter jacket, very cute rainboots for him, for when he's a bit older and can, um, WALK, and an awesome knitted sampler-type afghan for the couch.
And - SCORE! - a Liz Claiborne black cotton zip-up cardigan that fits perfectly, with the tags still on, for three dollars.

6. I wonder if there's any hot water left? With the stomach flu rampaging through the house in the past 2 days and the laundry going 24/7 - not to mention hosing down pukey little boys regularly - geez, I'd love a hot shower but I am not sure there's any hot water left for me.

7. If there's a snow day tomorrow, I may die.

8. That's about it.

Oh.

9. Just 'cause I am not posting more often does not mean I lurve you all any less.

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*John Curran Philpott (and no, I have no idea if he's real...)