I didn’t mean to. But what with one thing and another, forgot. This morning around 6:30, I put it back in the fridge. Around ten or so, I took pictures.

Will it be eaten? Not sure. Would you?

For weeks and weeks I’ve been wanting to make a pie. But after losing two family members in a short time, I found it impossible to concentrate on cooking anything even slightly intimidating.

Today, I got out all the pie-making things. I mostly wanted a picture of meringue, but the only proper meringue has a pie underneath. To make a cream pie filling, one has to separate eggs. Egg whites won’t whip into perfect meringue if there is even the slightest bit of yellow in it.

Of course, I was working at my day job during all this, and it was a very busy work morning. So it was that I got yolk in the bowl of whites.

The yolk pictured is one that did not taint the whites. I put it on one of my mom’s tiny sauce dishes, the only one I could find of its kind in her kitchen.

I whipped up a perfect bowl of meringue. The banana cream filling was thickened just right. As it turned out, I had to sit down and work for a few minutes. Maybe it was more than a few. Busy, as I said.

When I spread the meringue, it had changed from its earlier pristine state to one that was a bit clumpy. Perhaps I should have beaten it again.

The result, after browning, was not what I expected. Not fit for a photo. But otherwise, it is an excellent pie.

Well, quick - what could these terms be used to describe?

No, not what you don’t want your roommate to smell like.

Wine, of course. Silly.

Will run, needs work.

When I opened the washer door, the fragrance of spearmint was powerful. At first glance, it appears that most of the gum stayed in its pack, but at least one piece got the ride of its life.

Some mornings I make pancakes. Members of the household are generally pleased, especially when I toss some chocolate chips in the batter.

My dad wasn’t a traveling man, but he was a hat man. Even when he had a full head of hair, he wore hats, summer and winter. After he died, my mom kept many of them wrapped and boxed up. All in great shape.

I put this felt one on top of one of the old suitcases, also still in excellent condition. Then I had to wait for the light to be right.

When I was five or six, Dad decided I should be a hat person too. He started buying me hats, which I wore to school. I was the only person who wore a hat. But it didn’t bother me because the teachers made such a fuss.

The first hat was a blue felt number which I still have. It’s somewhat deformed because my kids played dress-up with it when they were little. I’ll have to find it and take a picture.

I can still be a hat person if I want.

At the store tonight, there they were in all their powdery goodness. I have to work a few more hours, and didn’t even think how hard they would be to eat at the keyboard. First, I gazed at the Entenmann’s offerings, but the box was too big. I found the Hostess ones, and not only were there some in a small container, but for those of big appetite, there was a big box too. I haven’t had a powdered sugar doughnut in years.

But sanity held out, and I headed for the checkout doughnutless. (I only had roast chicken and a salad for dinner, no carbs, hence the craving.) The clerk looked longingly into the bag as he sacked up my purchases.

Me: What.
Clerk: I see you have a duck.
Me: Yes, you have them on sale.
Clerk: Duck is good food.
Me: You should get one and roast it.
Clerk: I don’t know how. I get my duck in restaurants.
Me: It’s easy.
Clerk: Nah. They taste good in restaurants.
Me: Lazy.
Clerk (gives me a look): Enjoy your night.
Me: Really. Easy.
Clerk: I like duck with some bread. And chili.

I wonder what restaurant he goes to. Obviously, one where they serve man food.

An African grey parrot’s 950-word vocabulary stuns researchers. Hmmm. Almost a thousand words. Isn’t that more than some politicians can manage?

Still going through my mom’s things. I found this knife in a kitchen drawer, and it has been meticulously sharpened. Sharp knives and I do not get along, so it is for photo purposes only for now.

Chocolate chip pancakes do not go well with tomato juice.

For awhile, I had four or five kinds of pears waiting to be photographed. Then the holidays came and went, and I honestly don’t recall eating these. But I bet the fruit flies have fond memories.

I don’t think I had beef stew three nights in a row, although this perpetual fog of a cold can’t be trusted. Fri. night must have been chowder night. Every night has been good for chowder or stew, doesn’t matter, it’s still raining.

GoldenEye. So long ago. So many things forgotten. Back when Pierce Brosnan was new to the role.

Dinner was once again stew (I made a lot when I got some energy Friday). One of those nights, there was clam chowder. And ribs. But what a perfect movie to be unwell during.

The only good thing about this bug is the lack of appetite. But during the movie, I decided it was snack time, and got a bag of chips out. Ate three or four and decided that was enough. I told you I was sick.

Saturday I thought I was well. Trying to catch up on work, I fell asleep in my chair several times before giving up and taking a nap for two hours. Over beef stew I watched The Tick and the Uncommon Cold, and I could commiserate. Before that, it was The Tick and El Seed.

After that I watched another episode of MI-5, the show that makes my heart beat fast.

Today my head feels the size of a weather balloon. But I can breathe most of the time without sound effects, and have made it through the day napless so far. The two times I dozed off before lunch don’t count. My work was unusually dull plus the effects of all those antihistamines haven’t worn off.

Nory makes me laugh, and that’s something. Yes, I did read Vox, and also Checkpoint. Working my way through all of Baker’s books.

Last night I finished Mother of Sorrows by Richard McCann.

It takes me roughly twice as long to finish an ‘easy’ sudoku when I have a cold.

The upside is that I have a large variety of nose whistles. The downside? I can’t breathe very well. My head feels the size of an Atlantic Giant pumpkin, which means my eyes are bulgey.

If I didn’t have all this work, I’d watch all those movies stockpiled.

The boys are aged 4, 7 and 10. After using soaps and shampoos containing lavender and tea tree oils, they smelled great, but they also grew breasts.

There is a segment of the population that will be watching carefully to see if the right researchers show interest in this story. Natural oils that stimulate breast growth? Not every woman who wants enhancement is keen on the idea of implants.

A painting in her husband’s collection from Bacon’s Pope series will be up for auction this week. Christie’s expects a tidy sum to be raised.

My mom died a little over a month ago. Saturday, her only sister also died.

My aunt kept up her daily walks until the Ontario weather got bad around September. In one of our last phone conversations, she confided that she preferred going off on her own, rather than depend on one of her aides. When I expressed alarm, she said she liked her own pace. She was 96. Her daughters decided not to tell her that Mom was gone. But I think she knew.

I called up my walking budding, and told her it was time we got back to our old exercise routine. It was short-sleeve tshirt weather, the flowering trees are starting to show their delicate blooms. And now there are not one, but two kindly and gentle ladies watching over me wherever I go.

Kind of like being trapped in a snowglobe that some nasty kid opened up and peed in.

Oh, and it’s oily and stinks too.

I’ve stopped trying to eat supper while watching the wonderful BBC series ‘MI-5′. Unrelenting suspense resulted in tension headaches two nights in a row, plus the cast interviews gave away another killing off of a key character.

So it was that I sat down to a warming bowl of rib stew and a bunch of hybrid pirate/sea creatures. Long movie. I’d truly forgotten almost everything about the first one except the zombies.

Since I generally work through breakfast and lunch, dinner means it’s time to shift the mind to idle. After a while, I was somewhat amused by the premise of a wind-up kraken. Then I wondered how different ‘The Matrix’ would have been if the Oracle had been played by Naomie Harris. Were Johnny Depp’s kids frightened by his Tortuga many-eyed makeup if he allowed them to watch this? Mostly I kept saying, ‘Is this an extra-long movie?’