Good morning, welcome, and come on in to join me for a cup of coffee and a scintillating and possibly-controversial conversation.
Personally, it’s been a long week. I think it might have something to do with a slow week at work. Mr. CFO is getting ready to go on vacation and there was hardly any emails from him this week. Oops, I hope I haven’t jinxed it.
Anyway, the quiet week allowed me to get plenty of things caught up. How long has it been since I’ve been able to get away with a less-than-45-hour work week? Probably since Christmas?
If we were having coffee, I would tell you I’m baking my first loaf of sourdough this morning. This loaf has gone through quite a journey (24 hours) from when it started as water, flour, and salt – 7-hour rise and 12-hour retardation period in the fridge.
I know I previously mentioned I’ve had my sourdough starter for over a year but I’ve always only used it in my focaccia, sandwich bread, pancakes, pretzels, and brownies. I’ve never actually made one of those artisan loaves with its beautiful scorings because I never had a Dutch oven and all the work-arounds seemed so complicated and I didn’t want to risk a lecture from mom. “Clean it up.” She said every 30 seconds while I was shaping the loaf.
After work on Wednesday, I went and bought an enamel cast iron Dutch Oven because I don’t have the commitment to maintain a regular cast iron Dutch Oven. I’ve been looking at Dutch Ovens for a while and finally decided to buy one.
Of course, mom doesn’t know anything about it but I imagine she does now as she sees the Blue Giant (my name for my Dutch Oven) in the oven. Yes, the thing is blue and weighs almost 12 pounds with 5.5 quarts (5.2 liters) capacity. It sure is a beautiful piece of cookery, one I wish I bought earlier.
I’m now contemplating on whether I should get a proofing basket and a lame (bread scoring knife) but I think I should see how this loaf turns out first. Right now, I’m improvising with a bowl lined with cotton cheese cloth.
If we were having coffee, I would tell you I’ve had an abundant of dreams this week and they were of a common theme – death. Of the five weekdays, I can remember 3 dreams very vividly, so vivid it left me wondering whether they’re real. The three deaths were my cousin (on Monday), me on Wednesday, and one of my former classmates on Friday but of course, I knew no one was dead.
Upon searching dream meanings online, I’ve come to find out death dreams all mean change, whether it’s changes ahead or unaware changes that’s already occurred. Dreams are all so confusing and frightening, aren’t they?
Finally, if we were having coffee, I would tell you I was watching a TV show last night and mom made a remark that ticked me off. She said, “That’s why I stopped watching English TV shows, there’s always one black (African American) person in the show now.”
Um, racial discriminatory much?
Sometimes, I don’t think she realizes how racist she sounds. I pointed out to her once but she denied the accusation and turned around to ask whether I was a left-wing person. This makes no sense but then Mom seldom makes sense.
Back in college, I made a friend and invited her to my home for a study session. Mom was so nice and kind to her during her visit. The moment she left, she told me to stop inviting this friend over and stop hanging out with her. When I asked why, she said it’s because my friend’s Vietnamese.
“Just trust me, it’s for your own good.” How many times have I heard this sentence.
This was the first new friend I’ve had in a few years. The one before that, same thing. I invited her to my home to study. Mom said the same thing about my Peruvian friend. I don’t understand. This is the 21st Century. We’re in a melting-pot society and what’s odd is mom was born in late 60’s in China.
If we were having coffee, I would thank you for joining me in this edition of #weekendcoffeeshare and hope we’ll both return next week.