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I had a lovely phone conversation (2 hours! Almost made up for some of the missed convos over the holidays) with my friend J. I was making blondies while on the phone with him. I never look at the recipe any more for this, because I make them every couple of weeks, freeze them and then my walking partner, me and the kids will pull them out and thaw them when we want them. Since this has been a stable pattern for years now (and I was making them for me and the kids before that, and before that just for me), I've made this recipe hundreds of times. About 1 or 2 percent of the time, I screw up and forget the baking powder. This time, I went, fuck it and just let it ride, because I use 4 eggs in the recipe and the batter is pretty loose. I wanted to see if the eggs produced enough rise to make them edible. They _are_ about half the height, but they are by no means bricks and if no one else wants to eat them, well, all the more for me!

Because I have been cooking steaks on the cast iron griddle with the flat iron, I thought, hmm, maybe I should replenish the greasy goodness on the surface of the griddle. So I thawed out the bacon, and had a BLT. Yummy. I _thought_ I had run the fan long enough, but since then, every time I leave the house and return, I go, hmmm, still smells like bacon in here. Oh well. I only known one person with a pork allergy, and she is safely ensconced in Seattle. Presumably the airborne bacon will be gone before she next visits.

The snow pants I ordered for A. have arrived, along with a friend's recommendation to check out Costco for pink snowveralls. I think R. will do that tomorrow, while I am at the dentist.