Fri·day file (plural noun files)
/ˈfrīˌdā,ˈfrīdē /fīl/
A sometimes weekly roundup of things that made our five day grind more bearable (or bogged us down or were just simply on our minds).
- Starting with the worst – just to get it out of the way- I can only hope for that vile twat Pam Bondi, to paraphrase Taylor Swift, that karma is on her scent like a bounty hunter, step by step from town to town. I pray that her actions never give her a moment’s peace or rest in this lifetime and the echo of what she has done and continues to do with smug impunity follows her into the next life and the next. She’s got a lot of cleansing to do. Or – and this is a better option- she can rot, along with every monster she is protecting and shielding.
- Speaking of things that are sour – sourdough. (I know, and I in no way mean to make a jest, but how can you make a graceful segue?) I bought a sourdough starter from King Arthur (named “Charlie” by household vote) and spent 3-4 days trying to coax him to life. He was alive but unresponsive. I did some troubleshooting and some temperature testing and realized that my kitchen in the depths of February, despite being south-facing and one of the warmer spots of the house, is too cold. He wasn’t warm enough! I considered putting him in my daughter’s bathroom (which is definitely the warmest room in the house) but quickly discarded that idea because, you know, hygiene (there is such a thing as a fecal plume and while my daughter would murder me for saying it, it’s not unique to HER bathroom, it occurs in EVERY bathroom). No one wants that kind of culture in their sourdough. So I ordered a cheap mug warmer from Amazon and in the meantime he is snug in his sourdough crock in the microwave with a hot water bottle and my friends, he is bubbling away!
- Sporting events making me cry. Firstly, I’m going through some adjustments with my anxiety medication so I’m experiencing a wider and less predictable range of emotions, but every time Ilia Malinin takes the ice to skate for the US at the Olympics, I get teary-eyed. (He and my nephew also bear a slight resemblance to one another.) The way the Japanese figure skating team supports each other in the box and their overall graciousness and dignity makes me feel emotional. The US athletes who are able to verbalize their love for their country, their pride at representing it, and their distress at the actions being taken by the current regime (they’ve clearly read the memo about the freedoms the US is supposed to be based on) only to be disrespected by the overstuffed mouthpieces of said regime – makes me weepy AND furious. Breezy Johnson’s hand knit headbands. And last but certainly not least – Bad Bunny’s halftime show. I don’t even think I can talk about that explosion of joy and vibrancy and community and culture, culminating in parallel messages of love and hope and inclusion, without bursting into tears. Chapeau, Mr. Bunny, and thank you for showing us what America truly is and can be.
- Lastly, my stats are showing that there may be a few new faces visiting here – if that’s the case, welcome and feel free to visit my “About” page to get a feel for what I am about. If in reality these are just bots slithering around, ew.
We have a few days off for the kiddo’s midwinter break and were supposed to have a nice extended trip up north to see my mom, run a frozen 5k, and then go further north for skiing but sickness has (again) become a plague upon our house. We’re hoping to salvage a couple of days of skiing early next week if nobody else comes down with it but we shall see.
Six Ten 