I'm between projects. This is dangerous. I hate floundering. It means I need to haul my entire stash out and see what comes to mind. I have to pull out that blank canvas (previously a Butt Painting) and do something with it. And I'm just not feeling self-motivated right now. I feel rather like limp pasta ~ which is fine for yoga, but not so great in day-to-day. There's stuff I could spin, of course. A sort of mindless do-something while the boys are on assault missions in Star Wars Battlefront II and Bennie watches Lilo and Stitch for the twentieth time. The wheel would at least take me somewhere (perhaps instead of Millie, I should rename her Calgon).
If there's anything I have been doing it's cooking. My fingers have been tickling through cookbooks. Cait Johnson's Cooking Like a Goddess/Witch in the Kitchen (they are the one and the same ~ so I retract the previous erratum) has been the culinary tome of choice these days. I've successfully made Apple Squash Soup, Smoky Pumpkin Soup, and, just yesterday, the Cailleach Soup (Kale-Leek). All have been yummy and comforting and something to do whilst in the 'Tween. My next culinary trip might take me to Edward Espe Brown's Tomato Blessings and Radish Teachings. I have magic aprons and the kitchen altar. I have candles and all the right spices. I have the Kitchen Comfy Chair (unless occupied by any of the feline denizen) and fairly decent wine or the perfect tea. All ingredients for Creativity and nothing to turn snout at.
The painting will come. The next perfect knitting (NOT Christmas gift related) will work its way onto the needles. Until then, I don't see why I can't make soup. It'll be a one-up on Marie Antoinette and her cake service.