Monday, February 12, 2007

Imagination on caffeine

I hear the train whistle right now
I can close my eyes and pretend it's not today
and I've got on an apron trimmed with rick-rack
around my neck is sweating a little bit from the heat...
and it's dusty outside
the kids are driving me absolutely nuts.
i sit down and pour myself a bourbon two fingers deep.
the roast won't be done for another 20 minutes
and the sides will keep
(that's what a train whistle does to me)


I wrote that a few minutes ago, over IM while waiting for a friend to respond to something I had said.

My imagination is very active, though I may not document it. My dreams are alternately wacky or disturbingly reflective of the mundane details of my life. I find myself thinking about what I could do or what I'd like to do. I live a very, very rich life in my mind.

Now that I'm done with my Stew-as-a-1950s-housewife imaginary personality, I'll move on to the next Stew. Lady Stew needs to take her Marlyon out hawking.
(Falconry is cool)


I made home-made suet cakes today. Bacon grease, peanut butter, birdseed, liberal amounts of cayenne and some flour all mixed up into a stiff dough, and then patted into a chunk.

Actually, the process wasn't that streamlined. It went more like this:

• September: buy a suet feeder to hang outside. Have a squirrel knock it down and eat the whole suet cake at once, breaking the feeder. Resolve to beat those darned squirrels!

•October: Remember you have an unused suet cake holder. Buy some gadgets to jerryrig the suet feeder to withstand squirrels.

• November: read about how to make own suet. Do nothing else.

• December: repeat November

• January: repeat December. Occasionally think, hm. I should do something about that feeder.

• February: repeat January.

Then one day, notice that you've been saving bacon grease for some reason. And that it would make a good suet base. Put the coffee can on the gas burner to melt the grease a bit. Dump in peanut butter. Mix in as much birdseed as you can. Find a tupperware that almost mimics the shape of the feeder. Pour the mixture into the mold and place in freezer. Wait.

While you're waiting, fix the feeder so that it hangs from a stronger chain, since the damn mammal freaking PULLED it down. Hm. Maybe it was a raccoon.

Take the tupperware out of freezer. Try to shove the now-congealed grease into the feeder, but realize the mold was too big. Chop up the spicy grease and mold into a more acceptable form with hands. Hang. Watch the whole damned thing melt and start falling apart in the sun.


Bring it back inside and transfer the feed into a bowl. Mix in some flour, dust liberally with cayenne and hang it up.

Notice NO birds are interested.

Remind yourself that it's the PROCESS not the result that's most important.