cabbage quiche

The French recipe for cabbage quiche calls for cabbage, cream, and gruyere (eggs and milk being standard) in a pate choux crust.

The German recipe calls for bacon, sour cream, and caraway in a yeast crust (crioche?)

The Zambian recipe for cabbage quiche calls for three cloves of garlic in a regular pie pastry crust.


I don't know what to make of this.

Or, cabbage rolls for your fat dog.

My dog is very hungry now but she still doesn't want to eat dry food, so I'm mincing bread and meat very fine and mixing it thoroughly with the dry food so she can't pick around it.

Now I have to go do stuff.

wheee! head-hopping

So the thing about real true omni is that you can hop from head to head as it serves the story. In some people's writing it looks like it makes them lazy, so that they don't kick in the effort that it takes to pack in more information than the pov character can know. But I don't think I'm doing that in the romantic comedy thing (which is at 21K at the moment. But I'm still worried that it's more angst than comedy. Because I'm not the funny girl).

There's an element of "What did who know and when did they know it?" in this story (I'm witholding details because when I tried to describe them I ended up with a MEGO paragraph that you do not deserve to be afflicted with), and it adds to my enjoyment to observe the characters gradually realize how much they have misunderstood their own history. Hence head hopping in the course of reconcliation scenes and things.

I don't know if these people are too intellectual for romantic comedy, but they are who they are and they do what they do and they say what they say.

On another front, the outside is pretty good, and we're getting ready to load a truck for the dump tomorrow. The inside is several miles this side of the Collyer brothers, and getting farther every day. I hope to have it look almost normal by Tuesday afternoon, especially with regards to there not being any furniture or stuff on the registers and there being a clear path to every possible door and fire escape.

On another front, my brothers-in-law want to build our secret granny unit but we don't have the money. Meanwhile, one of the brothers-in-law is going to build a drip system for me as soon as I draw it up for him.

The brothers-in-law are excited because they remodeled David T's ("your other uncle David" to distinguish from "your other uncle David" and the uncle David we don't call David)log cabin and in the process bought more tools than you can shake a stick at and now they want to do a bunch more of this.

We could, I suppose, maybe, get a mortgage on the house. But it's so nice not paying anything but insurance, taxes, and maintenance . . . Once we get the insurance squared away, and I'm workign again, we can think about how to do this, better.

I really want to do the granny unit (it has to be officially a garage because of the way the deed is written and because of ironclad parking rules, but the planning department goes wink, wink and tells you how to pretend it's a garage when it's really a granny unit). For one thing, it's a source of income. For another thing, it's a unit of cheap housing in a town that needs it. For a third thing, since it would be on ground level, we could build it as a hundred-percent accessible house and if we needed to as we get older, we could move into it and rent out the main house (for a larger amount,even). Which would mean something. Our house is five feet off the ground and has multiple levels even on the first floor. I don't know how we could make the house wheelchair accessible or even really walker accessible. But with a granny unit that's supposed to be a garage, the floor will be smooth, I could build a bathroom with a walk-in shower instead of the deep claw-foot tub (which I love, but it could get hard to use if we get frail), etc. etc. I really like the ideas I have about building the thing, too. Oh well. We'll see.