Jack had to have a bit of surgery this week (he’s fine, he’s fine!) and when I got home from finding out, I didn’t even take off my sweater. I gravitated to the kitchen and started pulling out flour. This is the result, a wheaty loaf, using a small amount of buckwheat in a poolish [...]
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Barbara Samuel O'Neal is the author of more than thirty award-winning novels, including THE LOST RECIPE FOR HAPPINESS and A native of Colorado, Barbara loves teaching, travel, reading, writing, yoga, walking, food, cooking, photography and...okay, reality television. |
I’ve said before that my dog Sasha is at the end. It’s not a dire situation by any means—she’s still hanging out in the kitchen with me when she’s awake, hoping to get a treat, as she has done for the last 17 years. She is still very happy to get canned [...] My old dog and her favorite thing…a fresh bone. [...] Anyone who has read here for any length of time knows that I have bear worries when I hike. I even have dreams about them sometimes, but I’m not willing to give up hiking. Today, to celebrate my birthday, Christopher Robin arranged a surprise: he took me to the zoo for a “Grizzly Bear Encounter.” [...] Last week over dinner one night, Christopher Robin said, “I think you need to take me out to get bacon for breakfast on Saturday morning.” I said, “Sure, okay. Why?” He said, “No reason,” in that sing-songy little voice that says there is a reason. But I’m patient. Well. Turned out that he landed [...] P1000710 Originally uploaded by A writer afoot Since I can’t figure out any other way to do it, and I’m stuck waiting for a plane out of Ayers Rock, here’s the photo that should go with the Devils [...] Uluru is a place you have undoubtedly seen photos of. That big red rock in the middle of the desert, where herds of wild camels roam through the outback, and the land isn’t even slightly barren, and our fair heroines rode a camel through the dawn. (Only none of them will upload, [...] One more note on Tassie: we saw the famed Tasmanian Devils. Check out these adorable little faces: They were waiting for lunch, which was hunks of wallabee (fur still attached) and furry little baby chickens. Watching them eat, you suddenly understand the Walt Disney Tasmanian Devil, swirling around in that whirlwind, all [...] I have a scant half hour before they come to pick me up for a hiking trip to the top of Mt. Wellington, but I have had such trouble finding my way into internet that I’ll seize the minute. I’m writing this from a hotel room in Tasmania, just after breakfast on Saturday morning. [...] |
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