Blessed

          Last time I told you about not finding any yeast. Later in the day I get a message from my friend and sister in Christ, Joanie.

          "I found some yeast at the store. You want some?" she asked and sent me a picture.

          In big letters it said IDY. "I don't know what IDY yeast is?" I told her. "Is it dry yeast?" There are different kinds of yeast. Brewer's yeast, Nutritional yeast, yeast for making wine, and Momma used cake yeast.

          "Yes, it's dry," she told me.

          I neither confirmed nor denied wanting yeast. "I'm not really planning on making anything," I told her. "I just like to replace it when I run out. And I might try some potato yeast." I didn't want to put my friend out.

          Next thing I know someone's coming in my driveway.
         Look at this beautiful lady, would ya! She loves me enough to buy yeast and bring it to me. 

          I was a little embarrassed that Joanie caught me in my quarantine wardrobe but what are ya gonna do?

          I offered to pay for the yeast but she wouldn't let me. Turns out, as I read the package, IDY stands for Instant Dry Yeast. Who knew!

          Since Joanie gifted me the yeast, I made her some homemade bread. No-Knead Bread isn't the prettiest loaf of bread you'll ever see but I really like it. I like how easy it is to make. I like the crustiness of it whereas others might like a softer crust. You can always oil it and it'll come out softer. And I like the Italian-like texture. It's perfect for holding lots of butter — not that I would do that!

          You might notice the tortillas on the stove with the bread. I was making them when the bread came out of the oven. I bet I made tortillas three or four times in the last two weeks. Mike really likes chicken quesadillas. I didn't really have to make tortillas that many times. The recipe makes eight and the quesadillas use four. I put the other three in the freezer because I like to keep some on hand.

          "Peg, I thought you said there were eight?"

          Oh. Yeah. Four for quesadillas, three for the freezer, that doesn't equal eight does it. Well, someone (who shall remain nameless at this time but might be me) loves to eat them hot off the griddle. That probably explains what happened to the other one and also explains why I had to make another batch when I had chicken to use up.

          "Did you find a potato yeast recipe?" my other beautiful friend and sister in Christ, Jody asked.

          "That's weird," I told her, "that you should ask me on the very same day that I made some."

          The web site I consulted said instead of using cloth or paper towel to cover it that I could use the lid of the canning jar and just cover it loosely.

           You should see bubbles in 24 to 36 hours, it said.

          I didn't have any bubbles in that time and when I took the top off to smell check it, the lid had sealed. I loosened it and checked again the next day. Still no bubbles. I switched out the lid for a paper towel and 36 hours later I had some nice bubbles.

          The finished yeast starter should smell pleasant, very lightly of yeast, like rising bread.  Possibly ever so slightly sour like sourdough, but mostly like yeast.  

If your culture smells nasty…something went wrong.

          I opened my potato yeast and took a tentative sniff. It didn't smell yeasty to me. I took a bigger sniff. Nope, not yeasty. And just to be sure, I smelled it a third time. It was nasty. Something went wrong. I took it out to dump in the weeds. After I poured some off I gave it another sniff just to be extra sure but I needn't have bothered. Before I was done pouring, the smell was wafting up to me. It was definitely, officially, certifiably, nasty!

          "Will you try again?" you wanna know.

          I will. I really like the idea of making potato bread.

          Food isn't the only thing I've been making this week. I needed a new scrubby to exfoliate my face (and maybe scrub off a few wrinkles) so I bought a yard of purple netting and made two!

          Spring is pooping — oops. What a difference a single letter makes!

          Spring is popping out. Down in town, it's more popped than here on our mountain but you can really tell it's coming!

          Buds on the Bradford Pear tree.

          The pretty reds of the Multiflora Rose.

          Coming back from the mailbox, I spy the pretty ruffled edges of a fungus. In my mind's eye, I remember a project that my cute little redheaded brother Rick helped Momma do. They took a fungus, preserved it somehow. I don't know if they used a polyurethane or what. Then glued it onto a piece of cork and added a magnet to the back. I have one of them. On an impulse, I picked this one up, thinking, I can dip it in polyurethane. Beyond that, I didn't have a clue what I was going to do with it.

           I walked Ginger down to the creek. On the way I found a pretty round rock. My oldest and much-adored sister Patti took me to a place that had a lot of really cool stuff. One of those things was critters made with rocks. It's been rattling around in my head for quite a while now that I wanted to do something like that. Maybe I'd do something with this rock. Maybe a ladybug. But I didn't. I made a snail. But it was much too big for the rock I'd picked up. So I went out and picked up the first rock that was about the size I wanted. 

           I was coming back in with that when I see the fungus I'd picked up sitting behind the microwave (where it would be safe). Hey! That could be his hat! I thought.

          I thought my snail was cute with a hat but there's only one problem. If I ever wanted to make another one, I'd never find another fungus like this one.

          I wonder if I can make one. I worked it out in my head and set about making my vision become a reality. I made the frame and added ribs. Then got out the Mod Podge and tried to form the bubble that I'd later paint. My bubbles kept popping — pooping out on me. I tried and tried and tried! I even went so far as to put the Podge in a bowl and try dunking it. No matter what I did the bubbles would just not stay intact. And, boy oh boy! Did I ever have a mess on my hands by the time I gave up. Mod Podge up to my elbows, drips and drops all over the counter and dripping down the sides of the jar, not to mention the bowl I'd poured it into.

          Then my beautiful friend Trish comes to mind. Do you know what that girl did! Oh my gosh! I'm so eternally blessed to have the friends and family that I have — and eternally thankful too.

          Trish upcycles and repurposes boxes of all kinds. She decoupaged these for me with some of my favorite photos.

           One is a prayer box and the other two have different photos on the other side. I can put my brushes and combs in one or use it for my crafting supplies. No box will ever sit empty in this house for long! Aren't they just beautiful!

          So Trish came to mind and I wondered if I could use this technique to fix my Mod Podge bubble problem. Having a sturdy base would certainly help.

          But what can I use?

          Toilet paper!

          I got a few sheets of the single-ply that my husband swears is best for our septic system, and a bowl of water. I drooped — dropped! There's just something about o's and p's together that makes my finger automatically double the o's!

          I put the sheet of single-ply into the water and when I picked it up, it fell apart.

          Don't laugh. You might've known it would but I didn't!

          Okay then! That's not going to work!

          I draped a piece over the hat frame and spritzed it with water and that worked much better. When I went to tidy up the edges I tore the paper and had to start over. This time I let the paper dry before trimming the edges. It becomes almost translucent. This is a picture after I dipped it in Podge and it's not yet dry. Once it was dry it was almost translucent again. 

          I had foxglove in mind when I painted it. Purple on the outside, spots on the inside. When the paint dried I dipped the whole thing in polyurethane. When that was dry I put the bonnet on my snail. There might be a couple of extra holes where I didn't have it seated quite right the first time.

          I was so engrossed in showing off the hat in this photo that I didn't notice the shell had slipped back.

          "Your snail is so cute," Trish said. "When you do another one, you could make her a beau."

          A purple bonnet is good for a girl snail but maybe not so good for a boy? How about a leaf!

          And I made a leaf. Now I have to make another snail. All kinds of questions come to mind. Should I put a flower on the boy or should I make a bug of some kind? Should I fancy 'em up with more copper wire or leave them simple?

          One thing is for sure. I need to make a trip to the creek to see if I can find some better rocks to use as shells.

        

          We made a trip to Walmart to pick up a few things. In the county where Walmart is there were no cases of the virus reported at the time. So we thought, with a little reasonable care and social distancing, we'd be okay. The old people hours are 6 to 7 on Tuesday mornings. To be there at 6 we needed to leave here around 5 which meant, if I wanted any coffee, I'd have to get up at 4:30.

          Farm machinery in the early morning fog.

         

          Ginger totally grossed me out the other morning. I'd let her out to do her business and when she didn't come back I went looking for her. There she was, munching down on the gut sack of a rabbit someone brought in. I have a picture but I think I'll just spare you this time. I'm going to assume it was Spitfire because he's a good hunter and I've seen him bring rabbits in before. I yelled at Ginger and she finished her bite before she came in and she didn't look a bit contrite either! The guts were on one of my flat patio rocks so I picked up the rock, guts and all and tossed it on the other side of the fence. I looked around but didn't see any other pieces parts.

          A couple of hours later I let Ginger out again and again she's gone so long I go looking for her. There she is out by the fence and I can see she's chowing down on something.

          "GINGER!" I yell. "DROP IT!"

          Does she listen to me? NO! She does not! She just chews faster. I get out there and hanging from her mouth is a rabbit foot with a splintered bone sticking out the end. I have a picture of that too but again, I'll spare you the nitty-grittys. I had no choice but to reach down and pull it from her mouth. Ewww! Then I got to be scared she'd ingested a bone with the potential to do her internal harm.

          "Peg! Dogs have been eating bones for thousands of years!" you say.

          I know, right! It's been several days now and I'm not feeling as anxious about it as I was.

          I have some colorful train graffiti I could show you.

          I have a not-so-great shot of a juvenile eagle I took on the fly I could show you. 

            I stuck a celery butt in a dish of water to watch it grow. I could show you how that's doing after a week. 

         But you know what? I think we'll just call this one done!
         P.S. I'm showing the pictures online but there's no room in the printed version.