Sunday afternoon

 I have a bowl of cassoulet beans soaking.  Beans for supper tonight, lamb tomorrow.  Leftover duck from Saturday, beans from Sunday, and lamb from Monday spell cassoulet on Tuesday.   Hope the weather isn't scorching, but you never know.

Last week's wild-caught sourdough was paused in the fridge for a heat wave.   Now it's fed and out on the table getting reacquainted with cell division.   The remaining starter (God, I hate recipes which are "throw away all but 1/4 cup now") has been mixed with flour, yeast, and water by loving husband and will become sourdough-flavored bread for Sunday supper.

Other people's tensions and crises are temporarily in abeyance.  As a result, I made a migraine-specialist visit and got a haircut last week; this week I'll see the optometrist and make a physical-therapy appointment.

Time to sit down and write.   Life looks good.