Edithorian Cuisine

Today I woke up after one o'clock, feeling too seriously drowsy to get up any earlier (though I must say that I hadn't any idea of the time). In the Berliner Zeitung , in the weather section, it was recently written that the weather at present is conducive to very good sleep, and I must say it has proven true in my case. It was a very cheerful day, too, with sunlight pouring down the street without being hot or intense.

Once I was dressed I set off to a nearby grocery store, then to Plus, for ingredients for dinner. I found everything except "Backöl Zitrone" (lemon extract), so I bought a bottle of lemon liquor instead. Also, I resisted the temptation to buy a pomegranate just to see how it tastes. When I was at home again I prepared the cream of mushroom soup, with the help of Ge. and Gi. If I make it again I'll double the butter and flour for the thickening, because the soup looked quite watery, though the creme fraiche that Papa added really helped. The flavour was fine, though. Then Papa prepared the chicken, with bread stuffing, and put it into the oven. I washed the rapunzel, cut up cherry tomatoes to go with it, and made a light dressing for it, and, after that, made the apple cake, with T.'s help. The rapunzel tasted delicious -- sweet and fragrant and crunchy -- which rather surprised me. The chicken was excellent, as always. As for the apple cake, it was my best one yet. This probably sounds very Martha-Stewart-y, but since it's so unusual for me not to be disgruntled while cooking, or to mess up, I can't really help feeling self-satisfied. And, at the end, Gi. and Ge. washed and dried all of the dishes that Mama hadn't already washed. (c:

The other things I've done today are reading a forum, doing a load of laundry, and reading another pious online book. Also, T. got out her high school chemistry notes and briefly explained to me what "significant digits" in measurements are, and what a "mole" is. I feel much enlightened. (c: Yesterday evening I finished the first act of Zaire, and because of the interest of the plot (though I know how it all ends) it was hard to break off there. I'm trying to read through it slowly, so that I can appreciate it better (and actually remember some of it).

Tomorrow I plan to read more of Two Gentlemen of Verona, do some Latin exercises out of Ludus Latinum, continue reading about France just before the Revolution, and maybe look at a German book and read poetry by Tennyson. Perhaps I should take up Conrad Ferdinand Meyer's Die Richterin again, because it impressed me when I started it perhaps two weeks ago. I don't know if these plans sound tempting to anyone else, but I nearly wish that it were tomorrow already (well, technically it is, but still . . .).

I do wish that I felt more like playing the piano, but somehow I don't find much pleasure in it at present; perhaps I am temporarily "stale." I guess that's a bad sign, and that I should bestir myself in other parts of my life so that I have energy and new thoughts and so on again. It's not that I'm doing badly "plodding my weary way" (well, not that weary), but on the whole I am impatient to undertake something, even though at the same time I'm cautious about what it is that I will undertake. There are two possible frames of mind that I would like to attain. The first is one where I am completely at peace, where I feel no pressure and no restraint and no fear, where I find out what I want to do with life without worrying about not finding anything, and where I lose the restlessness that makes it difficult for me to read or listen or learn with concentration and at greater length. The second is one where I have the energy and hope and self-confidence to learn and plan and grow. With age I will probably reach one or both of these states anyway, but at this point a little of them would be useful, too.