I ran a sharp knife around the side of the mug, so I actually didn’t have too much trouble getting my microwave muffin out of its mug, although the bottom 1/4 inch stuck and had to be removed with a spoon. The next time, I’ll oil the bottom of the cup a bit. The muffin isn’t bad and actually isn’t that sweet. I think a lot of the powdered sugar fizzed off onto the bottom of the oven during those initial 12 minutes of time spent in the oven. Once I put them in the microwave, they rose fine, although the mugfin is a bit heavy.
If you don’t know what in the heck I’m talking about, go HERE for an explanation.
I then decided to take a slice of the mugfin and add some of the bran concoction I made last night. It was very sweet and I think I prefer the muffin just by itself. I think the bran/banana/sugar concoction would be good on a blander white poundcake or shortbread cookie–or perhaps toast.
Okay.. I promise. No more banana bread/mugfin posts.
For SOCS
Never was this wonderful song more timely and important!!!!! Great Advice, Keb!!!!
Career Limitations
I have flunked at ballerinaing. The reason? I’m too fat.
(Girls as round as eggs or pumpkins can not piié shaped like that!)
The assignment is to write a 23 word story making use of the words ballerina, pumpkin and eggs. Photo thanks to Designdash.com
I couldn’t resist posting this lovely little nosegay that came on top of the flan at Viva Mexico!!!
For FOTD
For Fibbing Friday the words to “refine” are:
1. Sonder: S on der is reds spelled backwards.
2. Opia: Anyone else’s myopia except for mine.
3. Monachopsis: What happened when my sister went out with Mona’s boyfriend!
4. Énouement: Falling action on the “e channel.”
5. Vellichor: Vaht es in the middle of your stomach.
6. Rubatosis: What ballerinas do after an especially vigorous session.
7. Kenopsia: An animal’s extreme aversion to being pent up in a cage.
8. Liberosis: The distinctive odor of a collection of books in a tropical region during a period of high humidity.
9. Jouska: A fruity breakfast drink in Russia.
10. Chrysalism: An addiction to picking cocoons out of blankets. (If you don’t understand this one, it might help to go HERE and then HERE.)
Photo thanks to Dancewear Nation.
Guess who finally found time to swing in the hammock again and guess what she found????
You guessed it, another caterpillar spinning its cocoon in the blanket I pulled out of the chest to throw over me! (You may recall my first encounter I describe HERE.) Forgottenman just had to try to determine what kind of caterpillar it was, with no success. I then was driven to trying the same and the closest I could get to a possible solution was a silkworm. At one stage, their cocoon looks like this, only white. But the caterpillars look a bit alike and many years ago Neill James did import mulberry trees and started a silk industry here. I don’t believe it has survived, but perhaps one of the moths did! Forgottenman thinks I’m wrong and he’s probably right. Nonetheless, here is a silkworm photo I found online: 
And a silkworm.
Here is an excerpt from THIS story about Neill James, an American expat who came to Ajijic in 1943 and who had a huge influence here.
Don’t Pick the Daisies
Please leave those daisies in their wrapper.
I find them just too pert and dapper.
I prefer a floral decoration
prone to promote excitation.
I’d choose something a little queer
to be used as a boutonniere.
Yes, I agree, daisies are cute
but aren’t held in good repute
for inclusion in bouquets exotic.
They aren’t sufficiently chaotic.
All their little petals are spread
in order. They are too well-bred.
I like my flowers with frisky sproutings,
curling ‘rounds and sticking-outings––
birds of paradise well hung
with orange feathers and bright blue tongue.
I admit, I am a binger
on passionflower and wild ginger,
on orchid and bromeliad.
Daisies I find a little sad––
too Doris Day and sixtyish.
A bit of odd is what I wish
for when I choose to pick a flower
for an arrangement or a bower.
Give me heliconia,
proteus or begonia.
For an occasion that is formal,
daisies, dear, are just too normal.
For my mother Pat who liked her food plain and her flowers exotic. XOXOXO
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 