Pancaked

Yesterday was Pancake Day, today I went for a routine mammogram. I hope the irony of the title is not lost. At least I didn't have to pay for the privilege of having my boobs manhandled indelicately into place and then squeezed flat between two cold metal plates whilst adopting an unnatural stance. Manhandled is a misnomer, actually. The mobile screening unit is staffed by two highly competent women. For years I was about as comfortable having a woman touch my breasts as a heterosexual man might be having another man touch his manhood. (That wasn't the word I typed first of all - there was quite an internal debate going on for a moment as I realised I don't want to fall foul of any web censors). Today I was fine about it - very matter-of-fact about the whole business. The mobile screening unit was parked in Teco's car park and the radiologist suggested I could go and reward myself with some retail therapy afterwards. I did go and wander round Tesco's for a while but I really wasn't in the mood for shopping (and anyone that knows me well is probably smiling and thinking, "When are you EVER?") Yes, true - as a child I always thought I'd been born into the wrong body, that I should have been a boy - but hey, I'm over that now, even if I STILL don't find shopping a special treat.

Instead I came home and purchased a portable digital radio over the internet.

In other news:

Glitter continues to sparkle in all sorts of unlikely places, despite the fact that the glittery top went away in the wardrobe after Christmas and hasn't come out again since. No amount of dusting and hoovering seems to put an end to it.

The Yoghurt making continues apace. Normally I make 'set' yoghurt, but I did try a batch of 'stirred'. The recipe book suggests that you mix in 2 or 3 tablespoons of milk powder with the regular milk, and then when you stir it, it won't break into curds and whey as set yoghurt does when you break the surface. It was interesting to see how it altered the molecules - I'm assuming the difference is at a molecular level, anyway. If you lift a spoonful of set yoghurt from the pot, it comes away fairly clean but adding the milk powder made the resulting yoghurt stringy. I can't think of another word for it. I don't mean tough - it's exactly the same experience in your mouth - I mean that it becomes a little like golden syrup or runny hunny, so that as you lift the spoon, a long trail of yoghurt follows it. Fascinating.

The herb garden is looking quite lush and I've had to give the chives a haircut as they were growing close to the lights. The instructions say not to raise the lights until all the herbs are more or less the same height.