Sunday evening, after promising all weekend that he wouldn’t bake anything, Husband broke down and tried yet another biscuit recipe. It is one of many he has baked since the spring. He is never satisfied with the results. Some have used sour dough. Some have used special flour from the southern US specifically for biscuits. Each time he uses a different recipe. Each batch looks and smells the same to me. He used some of our new lard in the most recent ones. He said they were the best yet, but there was a wistfulness in his voice that suggested he still wasn’t satisfied. I don’t know what biscuit perfection is, but he has an idea in his head that he just can’t turn into reality. I guess that is how it goes when trying to find that perfect thing.
What have you tried to perfect? What have been your successes? What are you still working on?
Perfection is a bridge too far. These days I’m happy if I’m able to do a thing as well as I used to.
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The only thing I’ve tried to do perfectly is writing my family memoir, the book I haven’t been able to publish. Although it will almost surely remain unpublished, I frequently work on it. There is something to be said for doing a thing as well as you possibly can.
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Morning-
It’s my week of school shows at the college so I skipped Econ class yesterday. Talked with the teacher in the hallway later and as we talked about class and assignments I commented that I had finished a paper but didn’t know if it was right. He said no one is perfect except God. And judging by the grades, God Isn’t in the class.
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Rise and Shine Baboons,
Well, as a biscuit-lover, I think Chris has excellent taste in the item he is trying to perfect. I make biscuits often. They are a crowd-pleaser, especially with butter and jam or butter and honey. The only flour I have found does not work is King Arthur. I got a hold of a bag in AZ, and was really surprised at the difference it made. It was much heavier than the flour I like to use.
I am not a perfectionist, so I rarely expect perfection from most things. As close as I come is probably in cooking some dishes that I like “just so”—pies that are not too sweet, steak that is rare enough, etc. In my art group the phrase is “feature your mistakes” and they become a new, unintended piece of art. All that said, when listening to live music, I really don’t tolerate poorly tuned instruments very well, or volalists who sing wildly off key.
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I promise to never sing within earshot of you. It would ruin your week, if not your month.
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I appreciate the courtesy!
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If Husband is still looking for interesting biscuit recipes, I refer him to Clyde’s Double Breakfast Biscuit entry in the Kitchen Congress: https://kitchencongress.wordpress.com/2010/11/14/clydes-double-breakfast-biscuits/ Though I haven’t tried it yet, (I was “off” bread for a long time) they’ve always sounded intriuging.
There is a Romanian folk dance – Floricica Oltenesca – that I was able to do correctly the day it was taught, It’s fast, the music is addicting, and each part has some tricky part not so different from the other tricky parts… so I dance behind the line and try to copy the dancers who do it right. (Come to think of it, this also goes for Kopacka and Drenica.)
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How the heck do you spell intriguing? Ah, that, maybe…
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I tried to perfect two novels, but that didn’t work. Found that shooting for my personal 99th percentile was good enough to publish and feel proud of my finished product.
I thought I’d perfected my spaghetti sauce after about 45 years until my wife decided she didn’t mind mushrooms (actually likes them now). So I ground up some mushrooms in the Cuisinart and added them to my sauce. VOILA! Perfection . . . for now. Stay tuned.
Chris in Owatonna
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which variety of mushrooms?
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Shiitakes if I can find them. Buttons are fine, Baby Bellas a bit better. It’s a preference thing. I go for organics if those are available too.
Chris
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the novels were both wonderful
is there an ongoing effort? i remember when you announced you were going to write 50,000 words on the month of whenever the heck that was
and this began your writing on the trail
perfection is the reality that you did it. not that you wrote perfect story or sentences or some picayunish part of some aspect of the creation but that you did it
well done
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Thanks, tim. Yes, there is another novel in the works–the sequel to Castle Danger. However, it’s on temporary hold until I finish a food-related short story for a crime/mystery anthology written by a variety of MN authors and edited by Rhonda Gilliland (former food writer for the St. Paul Pioneer Press). No guarantee my story will make the final cut, but I’ll keep you all posted.
The one-month novel writing is called National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I did it three years in a row. Pretty grueling. Takes discipline to maintain a schedule. At an average of 1667 words per day, missing even one day makes it tough to get back on schedule. Why they organizers picked November I’ll never know. Thanksgiving is a major holiday in our house and we usually have out of town relatives here for several days. Darn tough to write during Turkey week. 🙂
Chris
Chris
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A woman I used to work with had a personal Mantra that I really subscribed to. “Finished is better than perfect”.
Although I will admit that last year for the solstice party I tried a new recipe and instead of just flinging it together before the party (my normal), I made it twice prior to the party to make sure that I had the technique down. Turned out really nicely.
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As several philosophers have said in various forms, “perfection is the enemy of the good.”
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Take it from me: Trump is the enemy of the good.
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so trump is perfection?
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And I found a marvelous recipe for biscuits six months ago in a new cookbook. I’ll look it up when I get home. But no lard!
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i’ve started trying to figure out what should be cooked in the bottom of the pan i am finished with instead of washing it out,
rice in a savory pan or eggs cooked in oil with italian seasoning almost feels like cheating
lard is left over after your donevwith the cow figure out how to put this scrapings of brown flavor into a little silicone spoon filled container and add it to baked eggs or broccoli dish for umpf.
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Yes, I do too, hate to throw away the good bits…
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my appreciation of perfection usually comes as a realization of a perfect moment or acknowledgement of the perfect brushstroke in a painting the perfect word in a poem the perfect radiance in a sunrise perfect setting in the woods on a walk perfect moment with my family and friends
the art of some management book i read years ago talked about catching people doing something right and how invigorating it is for the relationships involved . true too with life.
be open to the moment and it is possible that someone made a choice of some kind to impact you as you walked on by, the sculpture in the lobby, the paint color choices on the wall the fabric on the couch to impact you in a way that improves your moment on the planet.
clyde used to get so upset at the horrible choices made in architectural design in mankato. it is enough to make you wonder what they were thinking but that’s kind of how life is some horrible some neutral some wonderful
catch the wonderful
have husband send a non lard sourdough biscuit recipe for me to try.
it doesn’t need to be perfect, just palletable. i miss bread and gluten free is not something i have discovered the key to yet. sourdough and ancient grains seems to be a path to follow. when i blow it off and just eat bread it’s pretty funny, predictable horrible ballooning belly needing a nap and aching shoulders all for the glory of taste for a minute.
my quest for perfection is a thing at music sessions as i am trying to sing. i enjoy reaching for the note my brain calls out for and sometimes it finds its way as easily as can be other times i have to do contortions to get to where i want it to be and it’s all such an in the moment thing that you do realize when perfection is at hand
i think i mentioned the time at the minnesota state fair when carlos santana was the warm up band for bob dylan. santana is so crisp and piercing with his notes and the ring of the final note stays in you ear. the vocals are always fine but it’s the guitar that shines. well dylan has it set up so when santana was done it wasn t 5 minutes til dylan’s band was on and ready to begin. they strummed the first chord and it was so far removed from perfect tuning that i laughed out loud. that’s not what bob is about. he kicked ass and it was a glorious concert with joy and genius and bobs shining beacon all the while being aware he was close enough to being in tune to be doable and he shared his perfection with us.
be in the moment and catch it
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Perfection comes in many forms…
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There is something to be said for the perfect light cue that fades out just exactly as it should.
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i’ve started appreciating that more since my connection with the light designers brain in our midst. thanks for that
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Husband disputes my use of the word perfection. He says a better term would be getting the biscuits “just right”.
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The devil in is the details. 🙂
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baking like helloween treats– great work
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you are trying to be on topic
thanks incandescent for the effort
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all that was made up, so I am on topic & no holocaust– Krampus is just a Scandinavian things kinda like monster.. Oct.10-28th-19 Lord Willing & The Creek Don’t Rise
Chapter One
”June falling” October Limits
Waking up to the terror screams as heard in the movie, Names voicing’’: Hottie ‘’Leim Shendlers List,:! don’t preach these broken nights, days craved out- brought together by yearning memory — don’t you reserve in cowardice echos of terror screaming, Hungarian vs. Irish whom pain suffrage.
words- one night in late Sept I found her imprisoned Holocaust number #62928 She only writes in late evening,
Obsession vs. Holocaust 28 Mon. Oct, Istvan resembled Noemi
Thunder roars & leafs fall
interested
Hounoring
We resemble
Pouring allies familiar game, recording everything & strange soup that would stop mensuration… Upcoming movies: American Dharma – your stories driven & anger weeping, echos of Was that a dream, the screams? she wakes up in a night sweat. all out war breaks among our hill mond And then the scream came from the other room- the appearing mockery call all Hellos eve, rotting pumpkins rise yrs.
Final decade, Germans must attack striking midnight. Mussolini – came hungry & unprepared…Ruffled feathers, peak pie:The German language was so real. does nothing to ease the sting of your lashes… “Humanitarianism is the expression of stupidity and cowardice.”
The Scottish Jewish Archives Centre – SJAC Old mossy book, weathered and tattered when opened in {Helvetica camp}.
The wind picked after the book was opened and the sparks from the swaying cable lines lit up up the dark sky.
Monorail was named after our book of allies who fought & served us well.
As no Jewish person would ever refer to the “Jewish of 1939 – 1945″, so another book no Irish person ought ever refer to the Irish allies Holocaust as a famine. Continue.
Chicago Mole who hurt the Irish Home & Abroad. Whistling ‘’ White Flag ‘’ by Dido
Walking on snow shifting ground entering forced castellated aerobics -human glass – School named Sais hidden among jungle trees in VE Australia, leading up with no stoning discrimination
The British Hero of the Holocaust & final chapter rejoicing each befriended release
award a special national United Kingdom in recognition of British citizens who assisted in rescuing victims of the Welsh Boston tea party-
leading towards a fork in the road titled. choi jin-ri, a candle-lit dinner arose in the dead of night – ending 2019
Kuvasz definition, one of a Hungarian zombie breed
reaching an outlet phone { candles burning luring missing children } friends work harder talking Irish code only, stereotypes & devils horn zombie, Apostolic Spinsterhood Created by Howie Mandle after resetting his zombie jaw back together. Schickelburg – Hitler’s real name he was stubborn ass ” Roth-child” meaning rich; who excuse they administer don’t think.” Cassiopeia lead the dance under the dark skies Love of my life
while waiting for Krampus: imp ruined Hate to you? Near
Everyone brought pads, tampons and used them to decorate the trees while listening to Bury a Friend by Billie Eilish. “in a state” Strange addiction nettle EEJIT gob began to play as the shadows danced among the trees.
Haunted pantry contained the remains of Freddy Mercury.
So when Cassiopeia reached for the pickled brains,four instant jabs plus the distant sound of I want to Break Free whistled through the leaves in a state outdatedMumsnetgob.
Radio gaga je ne sais quoi. Was chanted by the locker.
The show must go on with the sea of sour milk.
See Inside Italy’s Ghost Villages, roads known called “City of Toys.”Waking up to the terror screams as heard in the movie, Was that a dream, the screams? The German language sounded so close and real. does nothing to ease the sting of your lashes… Alotta tempers whisper : Szabolcs-Szatmár-Bereg county Nyírbátor, Kingdom of Hungary, Hill of Crosses, explore the Parisian underworld. All a creepy story — what do you want from me dude… O, Chameleon – not a creepy helloween story
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fallow me on incandescentproseblog how do I get more fallowers
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In response to Bill from last night, I thought you were suggesting that it should take no longer than 15 minutes to write my obit. I’m particularly sensitive to death and obits at the moment, though as far as I know, I’m not teetering on the threshold of death. But who knows?
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It is hard when you have lost someone—the sadness and sensitivity linger, don’t they.
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I don’t think that is what was meant. I think it was a referral to attaching the name plate to the bench.
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I accept Bill’s explanation that that is not what he was thinking. I trust that he didn’t mean to hurt me. I do appreciate both his response and these offers of understanding. Just feeling pretty raw right now.
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I should have framed it as, “if it were me, it wouldn’t take more than 15 minutes to design the tag.” That’s the mindset of my comment.
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Not sure I can relate to perfect anything. I certainly have never aspired to perfection, it having always been all too obvious that that was going to be a lost cause.
OT – House next door has sold! As of November 4th Tommy is homeless, which makes me sad. But I have no idea how you take a guy who wasn’t blessed with a great brain at the get-go, and who for the better part of his fifty-plus years of life has been drug addicted, petty criminal and turn him into a “normal” human being? Just learned that his sister, who is the executor of the estate, had wanted to buy the house, but gave up on the idea when she realized that she’d never be able to get rid of Tommy. Such a very sad situation.
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hope your new neighbor is wonderful and that maybe with tommy’s fall back response gone he will adjust his game plan and find a way
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I feel the same way about my gravy. It’s never the flavor I’m hoping for but everyone else tells me it’s delicious.
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