Times, they are a-changin'. Blogger just got an internal overhaul and now you can all comment on my posts here. You have the option of posting anonymously, but anyone who does please sign your name. I'll see if this is one of those things I want to keep.

I made pancakes this morning. Normally, this wouldn't be blogfodder, but for three things: One, I got up more than an hour and a half before I had to clock in at work. Two, I had a breakfast that isn't readily available to astronauts. Three, these pancakes were from scratch. Real butter in the recipe and everything. Things went smoothly for the most part. The eggshells didn't crack without a fight, suggesting that chickens are now being fed calcium supplements. The food processor was built during the bygone era when "intuitive-ease-of-use" was not yet part of the popular vernacular. I ended up holding the lid down with one hand and pressing the recessed button with a pencil, and if that sounds awkward then you have some idea of what I looked like doing it. Pouring the batter into the pan proved daunting, and most of the pancakes came out looking like the clocks in Dali's Persistence of Memory. The pan smoked quite a bit too, irritating my eyes. The end result was worthwhile, though, as they tasted pretty good and now the house smells like pancakes. The haphazard stack was split among three people including myself. If I ever do this again, though, I think I'll try to get more than two. That'd be sweet.

Now that I've conquered pancakes, I think I might try the Filipino boxspring hog.