The robot and I
The wonder of bread; I’m back in like with my personal kitchen robot, who can turn a bag of flour into deliciousness. Sure, some time and electricity are involved, but that’s the modern take on a process that goes back to the dusty corner of history.
My loaf, from yesterday, is about half gone. I committed one half to the freezer and the other to my meals for today. Sure, it doesn’t compare to a steak just off the Barbie, but we’re months away from that season. For now, I’m trying to master the art of the breadsaw.
Mind, there are other experiments underway here, with alternate grains and the ilk. I’m not ready to forego my salts and sugars just yet. I like my bubbles.
Like so many others, we watched the awards last evening. I didn’t feel the spark I expected. Am I too cynical for cinema? I did watch a documentary this afternoon, the story of a man who compulsively steals trains. He gives them back, but the court system doesn’t have a soft spot for crimes that “could endanger thousands”. Personally, I found his attention to detail and safety refreshing, after three decades of public transit.
The rest of the day was without detail. Like so many days before (and after, if my current habits don’t change). No feature film based on my life, probably. Maybe with some fireworks and noise makers, I could impress the world? No, probably not. And if you care, I don’t … my day-to-day suits me fine.
