Rebuilding, comfort food, reading plans

Ready for the holiday, I've stocked up on reading and viewing.

New Year's Eve viewing is a Wallace and Gromit feature

which I haven't seen before. Aardman have produced some of the funniest animation videos ever, and this will be a nice finale to an iffy year.

Then peaceful reading, Angela Thirkell, a writer I used to have no patience with, thought she was snobbish and Not Funny. 

Now I get her better and really enjoy her sending up of snobbish people. I understand she's not poaching on Trollope's settings or characters, but respectfully extending them. So I'm set for a marathon

And I'm revisiting Watts Towers, the solo work of visionary folk artist, Simon Rodia, now a national landmark. 

Created from scrap materials, broken dishes, glass, shells, wire, over years, it was his dream to make something big.  

I like to go back and revisit his ideas now and then, and this book, intended for young readers and perfectly fine for all of us, is a great way to do it.

Talking of building, remember the fire I missed over Diwali, which wiped out the dumpster enclosure? 

Today is the rebuilding. Just a day's work.

Nice to watch a crew working flawlessly together, knowing what they're doing.

And comfort food is important to close out a stressful year. I've been vaguely thinking about milk puddings, as in childhood, and since I didn't have macaroni, my first thought, it having all gone into soup, I remembered my mom used to make vermicelli pudding. 

I sort of remembered how it went, looked up the time and temperature, and went from there.

So, I have some good Italian pasta, and next thing, this was happening. 

Cooked pasta, added into a milk, egg, sugar, golden raisin,  vanilla mixture, knob of butter, then all baked for an hour at 350°f.

I love food baked in glass dishes

Pretty good. The new napkins in action already.

That should round out the year. Laundry done, bed changed, next,  garbage out, and I'm set. I won't be too sorry to wave goodbye to the old year.

Diwali and drowsiness, Part II, oh and Misfits

Misfits box arrived early Friday afternoon, complete, timely,  and I definitely think Friday's the best delivery day. 

I think my energy's not back yet, because I had to stop midway through the prep, leave all the greens in the soaking water and

 take a pita bread and salad break and a rest, before I could finish. 

I was on the way back from the recycle, disposing of the Misfits packing, when I bumped into a neighbor and found I had been a bit premature in declaring no harm done from the Diwali fireworks, sadly.

Turns out that while I thought I was reading, Thursday evening, but must have been vaxnapping, the dumpster enclosure, wood structure containing dumpsters, fifty feet from my house, went up in spectacular flames.

Evidently there were  police, fire department, people rushing to move vehicles, total blaze threatening nearby houses, great fear of sparks falling on roofs, I missed the lot. No people were hurt, but my neighbor's jet ski, parked in the overflow slot next to the dumpsters, burned out. 

I had noticed yesterday morning bits of debris on my car, which I brushed off, still not noticing the disappearance of the dumpster building fifty feet away. My next door neighbor filled me in. I'm such an observant soul. Or booster-impaired.

Another friend stopped by yesterday evening with Diwali sweets and a gift container, 

and filled me in on the rest of the story. 

Evidently the parents, after the kids were home, had conscientiously swept up the firework debris, wet it down and waited half an hour before disposing of it. They were appalled when suddenly the dumpster building was engulfed in flame. 

Sad ending to a happy day, where kids in traditional dress had been visiting back and forth, all very excited. It's the first problem I ever heard of from Diwali celebrations. 

This morning I had an Indian breakfast, sweet chickpea pancakes and coconut cake, in bed with a cup of (Indian) tea, 

while I mused on the events I'd missed.

Never a dull moment Chez Boud. But as my auto body shop owner would say, were any people hurt? No. Any animals hurt? No. Then it's just stuff, and we can fix that.

In NJ the term dumpster fire is not just a metaphor for the last administration, I guess.