What are you doing at 10:14 p.m.? Are you heating milk to make yogurt? 'Cause I am, and if you are, too, we could be buddies in lunacy.

I've been waiting now for an eternity, it seems. It takes a while for the milk to reach 180 degrees--45 minutes so far, because I really hate it when the milk scorches, so I do this s-l-o-o-o-o-w-l-y--and then it takes a double eternity for it to cool to 115 degrees before I can add the culture. (Hey, if something has to be 115 degrees before it can have culture, then the Beautiful Desert Southwest is the best-cultured place on earth! Just a little desert humor for you there. Very little.) So I'm looking at a long sit here in front of the computer while the seconds tick by.

I wasn't planning on doing the eternity thing tonight. I was planning to read a little--some thing nice and literarily murderous, nothing too serious--but then I read something that struck the fear of breakfast into me: the weekly meal menu.

Somehow I had developed the insane notion that making blueberry coffee cake--and, yes, I know I will have to explain to my kids, again, that this particular carb-fest does not violate the Word of Wisdom. It just shatters the hope for balanced blood sugar.--for our morning meal tomorrow. Great idea. As long as someone else does the baking. But when I ask if there are any volunteers to take on the task, only the crickets respond. So it's me mixing up the batter and greasing the pans. And stupid me, I chose a recipe that sounded yummy. Which wouldn't be too bad, except that I'm sure most of the yumminess is due to the inclusion of sour cream in the batter. And--I'm sure I've mentioned this before--I'm cheap. And sour cream is expensive. So I substitute plain yogurt for sour cream. And I'm too cheap to buy yogurt. So here I sit, waiting for the stupid milk to come down off its frigid high horse and just warm up a little, darn it! Cause and effect really stinks at this moment.

Sigh. 175 degrees. Five more to go.