Alert the presses! My husband and I slept in until after 8:00 this morning!

I woke up earlier than that, but I kept falling back asleep, dreaming fantastical dreams about bread. Bread on rooftops, bread stuffed with all kinds of nubby goodness, and five-gallon-bucket-sized loaves of bread. When I eventually woke up for good, I just laid there, luxuriating in the bright light streaming in the windows, the quiet house, and the knowledge that we didn’t have to take my older daughter to the farm this morning.

We went running then, my husband and I. It was such a treat, to run in the warm sunlight, unencumbered by flashlights and headlamps. I about died, but still. It was nice.

This week has been an exceptionally good writing week: four (!) blocks of child-free writing time, plus two (!!) meetings with my writing groups.

My mom tells me that I’ll never get any writing done if I spend all my time in writing groups. She has a point, but not a good-enough one. I get a huge boost from reading other people’s work, listening to their writing process, observing their style. Plus, I’m extroverted and the groups’ (relaxed) deadlines give me reason to push myself.

Food is a large part of every writers’ group gathering. Depending on the host, there’s often cheese and wine, or tea, or homemade sugar cookies, or a banana-cherry pie made in with a yonanas machine. Often there are pretzels and grapes, and the afternoon sessions always include copious amounts of coffee.

Anyway, I hosted both groups last week. For the small group, I made ginger cream scones, and for the large group, sweet rolls. I had also baked a tea ring earlier that day, but I kept that back for the family. They can get rather titchy about me giving away all the goodies.

It was good I didn’t serve the tea ring, though: the bottom half was gummy raw, oops.

Along with the two writing groups, I also have two other writing coaches/sounding boards/whatever: my brother and an out-of-state friend. One time when I was in the depths of despair about my work (and I mean that in the most serious of ways: curled up in bed crying my eyes out), I told my husband that I was afraid I couldn’t do this. I’m stupid, I said. I can’t even do basic organization. And then, as proof of my ineptitude, I cited all the people who are helping me.

My husband cocked an eyebrow. “Um, Jennifer? Have you seen the acknowledgment sections in books? There’s a reason they’re super long: most writers don’t write a book all by themselves.”

I felt a little better after that. And super-duper grateful for all my longsuffering cheerleaders.

I’ve been spending more-than-normal amounts of time at Panera, writing and drinking coffee, and I’ve got my visits down to a science.

1. Since they boot me off their internet at 11:30, when the lunch hour picks up, I make sure to get there by 8:30 so I have a solid three hours.

2. I buy a coffee and spend the first little bit checking email and blogs while the warmth from the drink seep through the cup to my fingers, prepping them for their work-out. Once the coffee hits my blood stream—I can practically feel my brain clicking into high gear—I shut down Facebook and open my Google docs.

3. After about an hour, I refill my coffee cup (light roast and half decaf) and buy a cinnamon crunch bagel, toasted, no butter, to go with it. Or, as in Thursday’s case, an orange scone.

4. I take bathroom breaks as needed. The trot to and from the loo gets my blood flowing and the wiggles out.

I find that when I leave home to write, I’m often more productive.

Of course, there’s the time lost driving there and back, so in the long run it’s probably no more productive than my at-home style of fritter-writing? On the other hand, when I write in public, I’m more focused.

I just finished reading Kitchens of the Great Midwest—such a fun book—and it reminded me of Olive Kitteridge. What should I read next?

Last night my older daughter and I binged on Parks and Rec. It’s so fun, finally getting to share my favorite shows with my kids. We are both huge April fans.

And then I watched some Portlandia. I was still laughing, even as I was falling asleep.

(All these Netflix are proof: I really need a good book.)

After yesterday’s frigid temps (didn’t get out of the 20s, I don’t think), this morning’s warmth made it seem like the whole world was cooing.

Naturally, I got a hankering for hot dogs. One thing led to another and now my brother’s family and my parents are coming over for grilled veggies and hot dogs.

So now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go whip up a batch of rock-my-world cocoa brownies to go with the ice cream and caramel sauce we’ll be having for dessert.

What are your supper plans?

This same time, years previous: chasing fog, one-pot macaroni and cheese, school: the verdict, addictive and relaxing, hauling wood, and my me-me list,

For his birthday breakfast, my younger son requested potatoes, sausage, eggs, toast, and orange juice.
 

Normally, I make baked hash brown potatoes for breakfast since they’re so easy, feed a crowd, and can be made ahead of time: whole potatoes, boiled and peeled, and then grated into a large pan with lots of salt and drizzled with copious amounts of browned butter. But this time around, I wasn’t in the mood for cooking ahead.

So the morning of, I made baked hash browns with raw potatoes. They weren’t nearly as complicated or time consuming as I thought they would be and the wow-factor was pretty enormous.

(Excuse the abbreviated post. I’ve been writing all morning, and, apparently, I have no words left.)


Crispy Baked Hash Browns

4-6 potatoes
oil or fat (I used an ample amount of olive oil and bacon grease)
lots of salt and black pepper

Peel and grate the potatoes. Place the grated potatoes in a bowl of cold water. Stir in some salt and let sit for a few minutes. The cold water soak keeps the potatoes from turning brown and going limp, and the salt adds flavor. Drain the potatoes, squeezing out all the excess water.

Liberally oil two large, sided baking sheets. Now’s the time to use pans that brown well, not the pans that produce anemic-looking baked goods. Sprinkle the grated potatoes over the pan in a thin layer—no big clumps. Salt heavily. Black pepper is optional.

Bake the potatoes at 400 degrees on the bottom oven rack, one pan at a time. After about 10 minutes, or when the potatoes look like they’re getting a good brown on them, pull the pan from the oven and flip the potatoes. Bake the potatoes for another 5-10 minutes or until they are good and crispy.

Serve hot, with ketchup.


This same time years previous: timpano!, a horse of her own, the quotidian (2.9.15), gourmet chocolate bark, dear Mom, to read, chai-spiced hot chocolate, and facing facts.

This same time, years previous: object of terror, loss, cheesy bacon toasts, chocolate mint chip cookies, eight, seven, travel tips, the perfect classic cheesecake, learning to draw, lemon tart, and potatoes with roasted garlic viniagrette.