I've definitely got a cold or something. Probably shouldn't have gone spinning last night. Will probably use this as an excuse to not go to the gym all week, and will look like an overstuffed sausage at Emily's wedding. Perfect.
Well, the good news is that I canceled my appointment to donate platelets on Sunday, so I've just gotten 3 hours back for myself in a very busy weekend. (Never mind the platelet shortage.) That extra time on Sunday will be spent in the kitchen, as I stupidly signed up for the agency bake sale on Monday. I don't know what I was thinking. The Herrs are not a baking people. I certainly don't have any recipe worthy of entering in a contest, much less asking people to pay money for. I get the impression that my paternal grandmother knew what she was up to in the kitchen, but unfortunately she died before I was born. My other grandmother, bless her, is Dutch, and the only thing Dutch people are known to bake is rusks, and "rusk" sounds like some kind of skin rash, so clearly I am not making rusks for the bake sale.
That is all.