If chocolate could speak.
Monday, January 4, 2010 at 10:16AM Wow. Already this year is flying by. That was some interesting sentence structure. I think I'll keep it.
As it's Monday, I have posted another installment in Brave Front. This one is pretty lengthy. I'm not sure why I write in journal entries. Oh, did I really just say that? Um, DUH. Although I wasn't keeping this journal when I started any of the novels that are spinning in my head right now. For the record, that would be a total of four. Yep. No wonder I talk to myself when I run.
The birthday recap: It was a very good day. Melissa appeared at my front door with a sacher torte, which we then shared with her family after dinner, along with more sparkling wine. I mean, she'd have to be nuts to think I would survive the week with that much ganache in my fridge. Just me and the ganache:
Ganache: Erin...Erin...you know you want me.
Erin: Go away, Ganache. You're nothing but trouble.
Ganache: Just a little smear won't hurt you, baby. You can run it off tomorrow. Here; have some sparkling wine, too. Nobody will know.
Erin: Stop it! You're evil. Pure, rich, chocolatey...what was I saying?
Yeah. Like I was going to let that happen. So, now we have only three pieces in the fridge. And I have exactly three children. I'm no mathematician, but even I can figure that one out.
All right. Read today's chapter. I'm in the "I hate my writing" zone at the moment. Stupid zone.
Reader Comments (2)
Oh yeah. I have a freezer full of frozen cookie dough, and it calls to me also. The only saving grace is that it's frozen, thank heavens.
As if I would ever let frozen stop me, especially now that the school fund-raiser cookies come pre-proportioned. Is that even a real word? It shouldn't be.