Saturday Night Bakery

Hanging alone, this Saturday evening, listening to music, blogging, baking bread, scanning old photos. It's a mellow-happy way to spend an evening de-stressing after a week of merger craziness. I'd be blissed out but for the distance between Flame-Haired Angel and me. But, right now, she's on a train headed for the outback to spend a week as Standby Wardrobe mistress on a Fox production. And that rocks for her. A few days after she returns to Sydney, she'll be back in my arms. Then, four hours after that, I'll be on a train to London. Love that international lifestyle, kids. We had a two-hour phone date this morning, Paris time, though, so I cruised into the rest of my day high from that. After a few errands, I hopped up to the Metro to meet an ex who's in Paris for the weekend. (Those of you who know Sly will appreciate the pic at right. Click it for a bigger version. Those of you who don't know Sly might appreciate the pretty fall foliage and the groovy Paris Metro sign.) We had an entirely lovely three-hour yammer over pot au feu and a bottle of wine at my favorite table d'hote, talking about parents, love lives and work. Then I dropped her back at the Metro and returned home to set the bread up for its second rise. Now, it's just me and Al Green on Saturday night, waiting for bread to bake. Which is a sure-fire sign it's been too long FHA's been away. Tomorrow morning, I'll be eating the bread with peanut butter on it, wishing FHA were here so's I could ridicule her "ruining" my artisinal loaf by smearing Vegemite on it, then falsely protesting as she moves to kiss me with Vegemite breath ..