Let’s see if I can get in a quick SAMCPP before the fabulous Zha K whisks my dopey ass away to the farmers market in the next hour.

Last night I finally dealt with the pile of tomatoes that were beginning to rot on the counter. Good heirloom tomatoes do not sit patiently for weeks. They are full of life and passion, and if not engaged, will go on to their destiny without you. I cut away the bad parts on a few, peeled and cored them, chopped them and put them on the lowest simmer overnight. Still they are not cooked down as much as I wanted so I turned up the heat a little this morning.

I don’t have the energy, time, or amount to justify canning these, so I’m considering making a big batch of meat sauce and freezing it in portions. What makes me nervous about this is the loud clicking noise that the refrigerator is making. I’m not sure how old it is, but it has to be at least 10 years old, probably a good bit older. I want to replace it with an Energy Star once it goes down, but I’d hoped that it might wait a few more months. The last time I filled a fridge with frozen tomato sauce it died so by doing this, will I call for its demise? Am I tempting Fate? After all, I don’t really know how the appliance karma thing works.

Early in the afternoon, I’m going to Susanne’s to beat more corn shuck pulp for papermaking today and tomorrow. I’m planning to take the Alaska book with me to work on. I have a great idea of sculpting the front of the book to look like a glacier. We’ll see how it goes. If I mess up really bad, I have another book of the same size that I can start over with and reap the knowledge of my mistakes.

Had another governor’s school dream last night. This is a recurring dream that has changed to become a craft/art school experience, but it is still called Governor’s School in my dream and I’m always astounded that I’m allowed to go back every year. These dreams are usually a much happier experience than Governor’s School actually was for me. Not that Governor’s School wasn’t an amazing experience for me, intellectually and romantically, but I was 17 and spent the first half of it being soundly rejected by a bunch of theatre pricks. The last half was great once I picked myself up from having my ego bludgeoned.

Gotta go, the fabulous Zha K is here.