Cooking is not my forte. Left to my own devices*, tinned tomatoes on toast is my meal of choice, or it would be if I had any bread. Having exhausted the leftovers in the fridge, I turned in desperation to Herman, the sourdough bubbling away to himself on the kitchen counter. He’s been looking a little porky of late, and is threatening to escape the confines of his bowl, so I thought I’d eat a bit of him in the form of pancakes.
Hmmm. Not convinced. They tasted fine, but the texture was… cakey. I think I’ll stick to my traditional pancake formula** next time.
Foolishly, I left my run until after I’d eaten. And I then found that my garmin battery was dead which meant running with my iphone flapping around in my jacket pocket. An incentive to keep it short*** and sweet****. Another Juneathon day completed. Just eight more to go.
*Luckily for me, this doesn’t happen too often.
**Darling, if I ask you nicely will you pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease make me some of your delicious pancakes?
***Not that I need any incentive.
****This adjective may not accurately describe my feelings about this evening’s run.