Hey! You forgot the hotties!

It occurs to me that this blog has covered me being a hooker, but not being skanky. For now, I will simply advise that during fabulous baking parties you should listen to Canadian indie rock out of Montreal, such as Malajube or Les Breastfeeders, and that all super-sexy cooking time be done with ska, particularly Reel Big Fish or Save Ferris. But don't take my word for it (okay, do), try it yourselves. This is kind of a big deal.

So, apparently knitting isn't dead in my life. The crazy middle-aged ladies knitting ministry got in some chunky wool yesterday, and it is huge, and, you know, maybe I'll give it a try. This will also be my first excursion into circular needles, which the fabulous Kate currently swears by - though I heard blasphemous mention of "double-pointed needles" escape her yesterday. Of course, this assessment is coming from the woman who went completely AWOL.

Moving on. In addition to making a spectacular croquembouche, one of my New Year's resolutions is to read ten books. So far I have read two. One of them sucked so terribly I would prefer not to mention it, and the other is Silent Spring by Rachel Carson. I majored in Environmental Studies and Political Science, and yet we were never required to read this book, even when we read Sand County Almanac and Encounters with the Archdruid (which I would consider similar). Next is a book on John Coltrane, followed by Opening Up for the Feminist Book Group.

Soon, my sweet. Soon.