I. give. up.
I'm officially depressed. Literally down and out.
Yesterday I had a fight with the hose and the hose won. I mean my toe (broken), knee (sore), elbow (aching), and hand (bruised) had a fight. I got tangled up while watering and went down, took out a full bucket of water and skidded across the pavement. I sat still, soaked and stunned while the chippies raced around me stuffing their cheeks with peanuts paying zero attention to my lack of grace. I was grateful for the tree cover shielding me from entertaining my neighbors.
Okay it could have been worse, but there goes the many after work walks I was so looking forward. Shoes are out of the question for the foreseeable future. Restricted activity will leave plenty of time to attempt sort what is going on with my starter. Despite lots of feedings, it doesn't seem to be fermenting. I'm guessing my ratios are off. It's my first solo effort, and I'm hoping it's not my last because an airy, tangy slice of bread with butter would make me feel much better right now.
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