Like a Narcoleptic Goat

These days, I'm like a narcoleptic goat: up and about, springing around the house, getting into a bunch of things, and even moaning and baa'ing a bit before I crash suddenly on the couch to sleep an hour or two. It's disconcerting, though possibly a relief to the hubby and to Rascal, who've had to put up with me in the house these past few weeks. "Thank goodness, she's asleep," they must say as I lie gap-mouthed and drooling on the cushions.

As my recovery days wear on, I'm finding myself less like the goat and more like a normal person who can get up and do things, like go outside and talk to people. I've been to the bank, visited my workmates, and even fiddled a little bit in the garden. I'm optimistic that my normal energy levels will return in time. It's only been a few weeks with just one kidney, after all.

With the sudden burst of energy yesterday, I determined that I would go ahead and make a Strawberry Coffee Cake with a recipe by Joy the Baker. This recipe had been sitting in my Pinterest board for a while, but it was only while I was assembling the ingredients that I realized that this cake has no coffee in it. This puzzled me. All of the coffee cakes I've made or eaten in the past had coffee in it. In fact, I stood for a good ten minutes in my kitchen reading the recipe over and over, trying to see if I was missing something obvious. No coffee. Well, ok. I guess I had to resign myself to a plain ol' soft, moist and fluffy cake with a strawberry filling and streusel on top. Torture, I know.

This photo is a bit over-exposed, so you can't really see the layer of strawberries in there, but they're in there, baby. I substituted the sour cream for plain yogurt, because 1) sour cream is the sort of thing I buy and only use a little bit of, and then promptly forget about until months later when I find several blue organisms growing in it in the fridge, and 2) plain yogurt is something I always have on hand. I also decreased the amount of sugar by 1/3 of a cup, both for the virtue of health and because I simply ran out. And I ate the first slice with a cup of tea, not coffee. I'm thinking this cake needs re-naming, but soon, it'll just be called "gone."

I've also been out-and-about in my little town. I visited my friend's vintage shop, which always means I discover a few bits and pieces to make my day. I found a sweet little biscuit/cookie cutter, which will be perfect for when I make more Welsh Cakes down the line. The last time I made them, I used a glass to cut them out. I'm thinking this will be a smidge better, and the colour of the handle makes me smile:

I also brought home this bottle opener that has a cork handle. Sweet and useful.

It was only when I was taking photos of it this afternoon that I realized there are words carved into it. They're hard to see here, but they say something like "Carlos San Lucas." Carlos, I have your bottle opener. Bring a bottle of wine and we'll chat, ok?

I also found this tiny little ceramic/porcelain ladle. I was attracted by the blue on the cup:

And the little details on the handle:

And the sweet little painting of fruit on the inside:

And when I turned it over, I found this:

Which reminded me of this cup, which lives on one of my bookcases at home:

That also has this underneath:

Family reunions are beautiful:

And lastly, I brought these little nail scissors home as well. I've been wanting a little pair of scissors for my yarn and sewing kit. I actually came back two days later for it, because I wasn't sure I'd be able to manage having a pair of scissors with such pointy tips. My hazard assessment of them told me that the potential for injury was great, until I stopped in at an embroidery shop in the city and they sold me a little stopper made just for this purpose. Genius invention, and only fifty cents. I cut it down to size, and it's perfect:

I cleaned the scissors up with a bit of Silvo, and then buffed them with a silly little nail buffer I bought on a whim from the drugstore last summer. I used the heart-shaped one to get into all the little nooks and crannies. I put an unused one above to show how much tarnish I managed to take off. Nice, huh?

So, four weeks after surgery, I putter on. I'm thinking I might go to the local pool and try out a few different muscles next week, we'll see. I'm going back to work soon, so it's important for me to try to do a little bit more every day. I can't be the narcoleptic goat forever, after all. It's far too exhausting for some of us around here: