You know how I talked about the incessant swearing by the capo instructor? Well, I don't think he'll like it very much that I'm running late today. Because of this. Goat cheese and chive biscuits. Can Saturday morning get any more delightful than pockets of buttery goodness?
I'm always late for class but I'll just have to bribe them with these buttery goodness. Food always taste 10x better after you're bruised and battered and beaten anyways.
As I'm waiting for them to bake, I shall tell you that the other night, I dreamt of biscuits. I was making them in my dream, and I had wanted them to cool quickly so I decided to open my bedroom window wide wide open to air them out. Why? It's a dream, there are no why's with dreams.
And guess what I discovered when I awoke the next morning? My bedroom curtains wide open revealing my bed and ME sleeping to the entire city. I had opened them up in my sleep.
Sleepwalking (or as my friend Z called it, sleepcooking) with biscuits? I had no choice but to make them. It's too hazardous to my health and dignity if I put them off much longer.
I think I hear the oven timer!
I'll have to talk about them later as I have to catch that Saturday streetcar! Thanks for stopping by!