STYLE
Quiet
Loud
Muted
Whisper
Scream


RECENT ENTRIES
Can You Feel A Little Love?
Just Like Every Day
Holes In The Head
He Said She Said
Your My Best Friend


ARCHIVES
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
November 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
February 2004
January 2004
December 2003
November 2003
October 2003
September 2003
August 2003
July 2003
June 2003
May 2003
April 2003
March 2003
February 2003
January 2003
December 2002
November 2002
October 2002
September 2002
August 2002
July 2002
June 2002
May 2002
April 2002
March 2002
February 2002
January 2002
December 2001
November 2001
October 2001
September 2001
August 2001
July 2001
June 2001
May 2001
April 2001
March 2001
February 2001
January 2001
December 2000


OTHER VOICES


MISCELLANEOUS
Webcam

Carb City

Last night I made pizza dough in the bread machine. This afternoon I am making a loaf of white bread. As soon as it is done I should probably throw in another batch because I just can't seem to make enough each day. I could spend my entire life putting ingredients into this machine. I made bread by hand all the time when I lived in Iowa. I loved it at first. Then I got sick of it, just like when I decided not to use disposable diapers when Savannah was a baby. The same goes for hand washing stuff. I would kill for a lingerie washing machine. I wonder if it would still destroy an underwire bra like the big machine does? I have no clue how those Amish women keep their shit together. They get to do both every day plus a hundred other back breaking chores. I have a lot of respect for their patience and devotion. If I had to do everything they do I would be one cranky bitch. Anyway, the bread machine, it kicks booty in a big way.

Posted by gwendolyn on December 10, 2003 at 01:09 PM