Pancakes

Imagine life without butter.

Yesterday the movers came to the studio and loaded up a truck full of couches and chairs and furniture and a slew of other unwieldy things.

We divvied up the stuff over four stops and I finally have my CDs back home. The collection spans back to high school and I cringe sometimes when looking at it, but when a wild hair sprouts, I can satiate some arcane aural need.

I also got the fridge from the office, replacing the used thing that came with my joint. Not only did it have mold in the gasket, but it died last month. The freezer kept things cold-ish (but not freezer cold) and the fridge part was simply a cool dry place. I couldn’t keep dairy products at all.

So last evening, before the soreness from lifting set in, I went to the grocery store and got butter and milk. A late night hunger pang struck and I made pancakes.

They were the most delicious things in the world.