Reados, prayer plant, cornbread

Just to show, despite my brief stay in the  slough of despond yesterday, I do have a prayer.  Prayer plant, that is, seen here doing very nicely and soon to be potted up.  And the primula, blazing away.  Three lovely Roma tomatoes ripening on the windowsill.

And since I am completely out of bread-adjacent foods, I had to make cornbread, so as to have a little something around for tea.  And for Handsome Son, visiting tomorrow, which will completely upset my notion of what day it is, since he usually visits on Sunday when his working hours permit.

 I used pastry flour wholewheat, instead of ap or hard wholewheat with the cornmeal, and the result is very tender, and really nice.  It's a buttery recipe, and as always, baking in cast iron is a good idea. Usually when I use wholewheat flour, which I do a lot, my cakes are sturdy, pick up a piece and eat type of thing. These are more genteel, as in use a fork, for pity's sake, what would your mother say if she saw you?

The reados in the title are times when you misread a word and go on for a bit before realizing you've got the wrong end of the stick.  Coined by my friend Mare long ago, and cherished by me as a great version of typo.  There are also speakos when you say something wrong by accident, meaning one word, finding yourself saying another, oops.

Today's reado was a common one for me: reading photography as pornography.  I don't know what this says about me.  And there's friend R. who read a blogpost a while back about some announcement librarians had made, and made a series of angry responses, brandishing the wrong end of the stick, throughout, and jumping on her hobbyhorse at the same time.  A couple of us wondered why she was so upset, then it turned out she'd read it as libertarians, a very different kettle of fish. Or horse of a different color.  Or other end of the stick, your choice.

One of the best is one I heard on radio ages ago, Joan Rivers the comedian, subbing for a regular talkshow host, and reading a PSA about heating.  This was in New York City, where tenants, of whom there are many, can call a special number to report if their heating goes out in winter.  It's known as an outage.  So she gets the script, totally misreads, gets all actressy and says, if this happens to you, call 311 and express your OUTRAGE!  Funny when a comedian is funny without realizing it.  She was pretty funny on purpose, so this was a bonus.

Doing better today, and thank you all for your helpful comments yesterday, also the friends who emailed encouraging words, too.  I'm getting there.

Dentist, thriftie, flowers writing their own epitaph

High anxiety today, routine check-up at the dentist, great precautions, temp taken, questionnaire to fill out, shoved instantly into exam room, no loitering in the waiting area. Hygienist equipped to do surgery, masked, face shielded, gowned, all to clean my teeth. Dentist arrives in N95 mask. While the cleaning was happening, two alerts sounded on my phone, across the room, too bad.

So no work needed, no deterioration , just keep doing what you've been doing. Empty your wallet, dear, and you can be on your way.

Since I had already ventured across two towns to the dentist, I wasn't far from the thriftie, so I seized the day, found a shortcut to there, and unloaded the Fit of the stuff that's been rattling about behind me for weeks. Nobody was watching, so the hatch opened easily, first time. This never happens when there's an audience. It's a law of nature.

Home again, feeling that I'd acquitted myself well under fire, even simple errands are like this nowadays, and found the phone alerts were about a power outage, one from the power company telling me about it, one from a neighbor asking me about it. Nobody seems to ask the power company. They ask me!  And it was already restored anyway, just had to reset various flashing clocks.

Gardening convo with another neighbor restored my balance, and I noted the Montauk daisies now coming out

 near the Autumn Joy sedum.

 Notice how the ground cover fills in so you don't get that collapsed effect sedum has when it flops out from the center. I can't claim to have completely planned this, more like hoped for it.

Even that daisy head I knocked off is opening in the house, intrepid feller.

Down the street two roses, all  about seizing the day, and time flying.And on that elegiac note, good night!

 After you see a more cheerful sight, a pan of fresh baked cornbread

Life's a banquet, let's enjoy cornbread before our petals fall off.

Cornbread, castiron

Cornbread baked in castiron

That is all ye know on earth

And all ye need to know.

Keats in a different context but it works here, too.