FUCK YOU, DIVINITY
I tried this year, damn it. I did not look out at the snow or rain or 60-plus percent humidity and say, And now I shall make divinity, because I am a fool. No, this fool planned. We had a dry day with no snow and no expectation of such. I had fresh egg whites leftover from a batch of sandbakkels (see subheading Fuck You, Sandbakkels), I had corn syrup, I had sugar. I boiled that sugar syrup, and I mixed it carefully into the egg whites. And I beat the everloving crap out it, by hand, for a half hour.
And what do I have? What? WHAT IS ON MY KITCHEN TABLE RIGHT NOW?
A sheet of parchment paper, dotted with little white puddles.
There is nothing so frustrating as a screwed-up batch of candy. (Well, but see also subheading Election) So much effort, so many ingredients, so many plans to present your friends and family with a delicious treat — all those glorious expectations melted into little white puddles. It’s true. They call it divinity, because you have to be some kind of kitchen deity to make it successfully.
I think I’ll be giving this one up. I see that there are recipes for marshmallow creme versions out there. Perhaps it is time to go this route, if I ever want to eat unpuddly divinity again.
If you’re still interested in TRADITIONAL DIVINITY and you have more divinity in your nature, you can see the recipe I used at an earlier post of mine: Divine Intervention. Even there, where it kinda worked, you can see in the picture of the stuff that it’s too shiny and gloopy to be proper divinity.
FUCK YOU, SANDBAKKELS
Let’s just say my cookie baking is going terribly this year. Or maybe my last planning brain cell has fritzed. That’s the only acceptable explanation for someone who decides to make Scandinavia’s most fragile cookie to send through the mail to other people.
No, this one’s going to have to be a separate blog entry. I’m too depressed and angry, and cycling angrier with every cabinet post, to write a pithy summary of My Thoughts and Feelings here. But then, I’m no good at pithy summaries anyway. It’s a struggle to get out a reasonably concise blog entry. Count the adverbs in this paragraph and you’ll see! (One? Two? TOO MANY, I’M SURE.)
HELLO I AM YOUR NEW NEIGHBOR THE ULCERATIVE COLITIC SO NICE TO MEET YOU
Saw the term “autistic” used like so (example only/not the real text): how does an autistic feel today? And yeah, it was in a tweet so therefore characters are premium, and yeah, people who have autism / people who are autistic / people who have family members with autism, they all have many different ways they like to express this fact. So I’m not trying to get down on that. But I could not stop thinking about it. I could introduce E. to people as a “cerebral palysic” or, hmm, a “seizoid.” Technically his seizures could be epilepsy, and epileptic is a term that’s been around for a while. I don’t know if people use it anymore these days to describe themselves, etc. I do use “crankazoid” to describe E. when he’s fussing, such as “Public Crankazoid Number One” or “He’s a Very Cranky Boyyyeeeee, the kind you don’t take home to Motheeer.”
Anyway, I dunno why this stuck so fast with me. Maybe I’m just becoming immune to the charm of shorthands and acronyms. Oh, dear.