Okay, I watched the last maybe five minutes (game minutes--we all know that game minutes are infinitely expandable, so those five lasted, what, an hour? an hour and a half?), and that was exciting, all the touchdownery and awesome receiving and sharp passing and whatnot. In fact, if I could watch about ten minutes of action-packed football--what I believe is called "the highlight reel"--I might love football. I used to think I didn't like football because I didn't understand it. I have made an effort to understand it better, with the result that I still don't like it very much, so I guess it's because all that strategery (technical term) and marching up the field and lateralizing and all the lines--it just doesn't lift my heart and make it sing. I will be happy to concede this is something wrong with me and nothing wrong with the game. But my heart doth beat a little faster, now that football season is over for a good long while, and baseball doesn't get going for several weeks and so there is basketball: beautiful, soaring basketball, which is currently a little hard to watch because of the horrible injury crisis plaguing the Utah Jazz.
Cooking news: I had the splendid idea of making popovers this morning but the not-fully-splendid idea of putting them in the oven before the oven had fully preheated. Alert: popovers require a fully preheated oven in order to pop, as it were. I blame it on my not-fully-awake status. Thus, our popovers were dense rather than airy, edible but not inspiring, a little bit sad, a little bit disappointing, and yet, still breakfast, so we ate them like the hungry people we were, and are.
