five-sense Friday (a day late)

Yesterday was a busy one. Marking papers with purple pen, holding class, grocery shopping, roasting sweet potatoes and onions, baking cheddar garlic biscuits, dinner partying...not much of a computer day. Today has been similarly unplugged. I've noticed myself

smelling: the diminishing tang of whatever strange substance burned on the bottom of my oven last night (and that alkaline muffled scent of baking soda paste as I scrubbed it off this morning); funeral flowers; the cinnamon-butter-sugar sweetness of apple pies baking in the oven; fish and chips, before we'd even gotten into the restaurant tonight

tasting: chicken and chips (though the fish wasn't so bad); extra pumpkin pie filling, baked in a wee pie plate and spooned straight into my mouth; iced coffee (last of the year?); caramel apple fritter; leftover bits of pie dough cut with my maple leaf cookie cutters and baked beneath those pies...

feeling: satisfied by my pie-baking feats (tomorrow is church Thanksgiving); the repetitive stress injury that results from peeling and slicing sixteen apples; a little glad that one apple pie turned out SO UGLY I had to bake an additional pumpkin pie and keep said apple pie for us; cozy in plaid flannel

hearing: sizzling flour and butter; my own piano practicing, with headphones on to preserve J and the landlords; the man at the dinner table next to us discussing scones, pronounced like an Englishman

seeing: flour-covered kitchen; a pan full of flapjacks (oats, butter, brown sugar, golden syrup); leaves just insistently, overwhelmingly, doggedly raining down