Butter is softening on the counter for the cookies I'm baking for Charlie's work party tomorrow. There is something about baking cookies for a party I'm not going to that makes me feel very grown up. Realizing that, on the other hand, makes me feel like I'm twelve, so it evens out.
Baking will be good. I haven't baked in a long time, and I really ought to. The kitchen in this apartment is pleasant. I have a stand mixer, which generally makes things like cookies come together very quickly. Plus it's December, and even in Pasadena it's chilly enough that having the oven on is pleasant.
It will also be good because the art is currently not working. Luckily, it worked long enough for me to finish the commission piece, but now that I'm working up new stuff, it is not. Things have gone wrong that defy basic concepts of geometry. It's very, very frustrating. I finally have a piece going alright, but it required enough odd little saves that I know the pattern I made for it won't be worth reusing.
It's worth it, the experimenting and taking risks with my work, but when it does fail it is a bit disheartening.
Edited to add: The cat's doing alright. I'm not certain about how he'll be long term, but for right now he seems to be improving.