Specifically, baking a dozen brownies in muffin cups to take to my friend Beth's house tomorrow morning (after helping to clean the chapel) to be bagged up as Father's Day gifts to the brethren in our ward.
I substituted a third of a cup of buttermilk for the water and stirred in half a teaspoon of cinnamon. I guessed that 25 minutes would be enough, but they need more, so I'm trying another ten and hoping that I don't overbake them. We have a great bunch of men in our ward. I would hate to contribute defective brownies.
Yes, I am helping to clean the building tomorrow morning. Now that we have only two wards sharing the building, our turn comes every other month instead of quarterly. So I've set myself multiple alarms on my phone (because of that time I utterly forgot) over the past two days, and I've set my morning alarm, and I'm just waiting for the brownies to be out so that I may exercise, take another stab at meditation (I crack myself up) and call it a day.
Once I'm done at the church and have handed off the brownies, I think it will be safe to jump back into my jammies and spend the rest of the day crafting. Or napping. Or both.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!