This is the last post of the year and although I have yet many things to teach, I choose these images, because they seem relevant to discuss projects that will initiate for the new year with new energies and hopes.
These supplements (suspension, headband and kitty pins) are the evolution of the amigurumi kitty , of \u200b\u200bwhich many did , to also enjoy the not so small. These packets are gone and will travel by plane, but if you are interested in something do not hesitate to send a message.
For what I commented, for the new year I want to start a small project to sell some of the little things I do, I hope to be teaching you something soon. just say it will be mostly crocheted accessories and not just Kitty, which I'm going with the theme is not it, ji, ji.
Happy Year to all and that paseis great tonight, one last look forward to 2010 and that 2011 will bring us much happiness.
170 ml of whole milk, warm ( more or less, depending on the consistency of the dough)
1 tablespoon butter
1 / 2 teaspoon brown cane sugar (I added it because the dates were not very sweet)
a pinch of salt
1 tsp ground fennel
2 cloves grated
whole skin of 2 clementines
5 walnut
chopped
Leave chopped dates in boiling water 5 minutes. Then, make the puree. Join
flour, mashed dates, yeast, milk, butter, sugar, salt, fennel seeds, ground cloves and the grated rind of the tangerine. Cover the dough with a cloth 10 minutes, allowing time for absorption fluid very well.
Then, place the dough on the table. It is not easy to amass a comprehensive mass or is not elastic, so it takes more time for more work, will turn the dough kneaded and finally bit soft. Put it in a bowl, cover with plastic film, leaving a bar one night or 12 hours.
The NEXT day, work the dough in warm place. Add the walnut pieces into the dough and knead 20 minutes or until all that is kneaded and smooth again. Train oval. For consegir after 2 rings above the oven, cut 2 strips of aluminum, fix them over the dough, tucking all of the ends of strips under the ground. Accommodate tray, 11 x 15 cm, buttered. Put in warm place (25C), covering it with a clean, starting the fermentation 25C warm place one hour or will be when they swell well.
Precalender oven to 170C. Top with milk paint, cook 25 minutes.
When blogging came relatively early, but everything else ground late. I came late to the Facebook, I was late for iPhone and Twitter would not be an exception.
After months with people talking about the joys of Twitter, as I said I had the Iphone would open an account. Then, between one thing and another, I was missing out and said: At Christmas, I'll have more time, I open the fucking Twitter.
And that's what I did, although I have no fucking idea how this is handled.
Pan candied orange saffron and sweet Christmas bread
I wish to spend the holidays full of good food, happiness, love and health.
At Christmas, in fact I prefer to make and eat special bread rather than cake or cookie. While some bread marry can not last very well after 2 days (is that they are chemical and additive free), no problem if stored in a freezer on the first day. To sevir, sprayed with a little water before heating up the oven a few minutes, are as good as that of the first day.
This bread has two very fragrant ingredients - saffron and orange confit. I think my bread deepened more than two flavors, so the mass has been rather cold (refrigerator) to be raised, because you have to stay much longer (to increase to twice its volume), the mass has absorbed more essence of saffron and orange during the overtime. The result? How wonderful the taste!
bread recipe Candied Orange Saffron
( consegir 8 loaves of rod-shaped, length 30 m, a stick or by 2 people )
filaments Dissolve saffron in hot water 10 minutes. Discard the saffron but reserve the water, and let warm
In a small saucepan, cook the milk, butter and Azcue one minute over low heat until the butter is broken. Leaving the warm mix
In a bowl, place flour, mix milk, saffron mix, eggs, salt and cinnamon together everyone. Then place the dough on the table and knead very well, and well kneaded until elastic and smooth. Appears moist but not sticky. Put it in a bowl, cover with plastic film, her in a bar one night.
sigiente the day, rather warm, add the candied oranges in the dough to form, uniting all, a soft dough, knead well. Cover with a washcloth 30 minutes to rise again.
Cut to 16 servings. Roll them and train them to stick 45 - 50 cm in length. Between caseworker, leave them at rest (Shawls) a few minutes several times to relax the gluten, so it is easier to form.
Take two sticks, brush some water on their both ends, glue sticks, and twist and shape them to a candy cane, worship a candied cherry on top. Accommodate on greased and floured pan. Repeat the work to the sticks. Place in warm place (25C), covering it with a washcloth. Once they are high, it will be when they swell well, paint the top with beaten egg (with a little water), cooking (only one tray at a time) in a moderate oven (170C) 15 minutes. If this gold quickly, put a piece of foil on top.
For me, breads accompany very well with ham or cream cheese. If guquisiera something sweet, just drizzled with melted butter and sugar glaze.
I am in love with cake / sweet Christmas bread of any kind, from any country or region, as Christmas Pudding from England, Dried Fruit Cake or American, or Pan de Higo in Spain or Italy Panettone. When I lived in America, made the panettone every winter. However, my panettones not go very well. On the one hand, the panettone Casaro can be difficult if done by hand, and a few years ago my technique was not good enough. On the other hand, in English prescriptions seemed to me thoroughly examined before they publish.
After learning my previous mistakes, I learned how to choose a recipe - based in his footsteps if they clear, according to state my own experience, and could consegir with high quality ingredients on my site. So, this time choose bread recipe sweet or stollen because I will simply, and Bojo cholestro fat, compared to panettone.
To my taste, my sweet bread does not contain a marzipan or almond, but still is delicious and festive since I've added red wine blended with spice in the dough. To consegir good wine without penalty for this recipe, I reserved that pear in red wine and red wine FIG. Just saved it in the refrigerator after every cook to preserve longer.
Bread Recipe Christmas Sweet Red Wine (for bread of more than 1 .2 kg) The recipe is based German Stollen of About.Com
25 g of fresh yeast
1 / 2 cup warm milk 200 g
fruit
varied to your taste candied
600 g bread flour
120 ml warm milk (or disminuirela increase depending on the consistency of the dough)
120 g soft butter
6 or more tablespoons red wine blended with spices
40 g of sugar (my wine and the sugar and candied fruits too) 1 egg
1 teaspoon salt 2 teaspoons cinnamon
ground
Put the yeast in 1 / 2 cup milk, well
undo
In a bowl, put flour, 120 ml of milk, yeast mixture, butter, wine, sugar, egg, salt and cinnamon, to unite everyone. Then place the dough on the table and knead very well, and well kneaded until elastic and smooth. Appears moist but not sticky. Put it in a bowl, cover with a cloth and leave in warm place (25C) 45 minutes or until more double its volume.
After this point, add the candied fruit, such as to form, uniting all, a soft dough, knead well. Then, make the rectangle, fold 1 / 3 to half, and again plieque the other 1 / 3, pat into a form of stollen. Accommodate on greased and floured tray and place in warm place (25C), covering it with a washcloth. Once this high, it will be when they swell well, cook in a moderate oven (170C or more podito) 40 - 45 minutes. If this gold quickly, put a piece of foil on top.
out of the oven, inmediatement is sprayed with melted butter and sugar glaze.
Well Caesar and I have another project liao suicide, and it turns out Caesar been encouraged to recount the miseries of the above monstrosity to Jonathan Harker, opening a logbook of all of you, for better or worse, may be accessed at: http://algoqueseparezcaavivir.blogspot.com/
What is the genesis of the project? If you want a detailed response to you will have to ask your own Caesar. I have been recruited recently. I am the second plate. The writer number two.
Anyway, Poplar César told me the premise of the movie in an Irish Ventura Rodríguez (the fans who swarmed Guinness Ventura Rodríguez already know what I'm talking kitten) and I was very attracted to that premise.
Because I was trying to develop a similar premise for over a year and could not find a way to turn my whims sickly film. When Caesar told me what he had in hand, I felt that his argument and my neuroses which parts fit Tetris. And last but not least, also fit into the project title I shuffled to my insenzatez (which has now become the title of the folly of Caesar):
"something that looks like to live."
I do not know how to describe this project. In fact, I should not describe too. Since I work at it occur to me very vague descriptions, but very funny:
"The movie happens when Fernando León de Aranoa looks away"
o. ..
"Sam Peckinpack sucking the cock David Cronenberg "
o. ..
"What if Dexter was directed by Takeshi Miike ?"
Basically it is a story about how the inhabitants of this planet are anesthesia to the point where almost nothing happens to us affects us, how almost nothing encourages us to help others, how almost nothing makes us ... feel alive. César
loaned me a book on psychopaths, for me to go poking in the tone of the movie.
I must admit that I worry a bit that, if this movie goes ahead, it will mean that my first three scripts distributed commercially treated about people with mental problems. Shouts dealt with mental illness who suffer abuse from people who guard them. ME was about a girl with triple personality whose personalities did not get along too well together. Y " Something that seems to live " ... I do not want to reveal too much about the plot (between partly because the story is not written yet) but if it goes ahead, would be my third script sold addressing the issue of mental morons.
I find it curious: I have written over twenty film scripts, but those just finding their way into the swamps of the commercial distribution siemper have something to do with mentally disturbed.
I guess I have unfinished business with those crazy wonderful.
Digging in the storage room on my hard drive I found things I wrote long ago. Testimonials from those Paleolithic eras in which instead of being a "writer" to be played.
Sometimes I have the feeling that, but now has more office, once had more power. A power almost adolescent, since there is no better fuel than the naive illusion.
I have come here wanting to hang one of the gazillion stories that I just re-discover forgotten folders. I wrote 11 years ago and published it in this post, not daring to read it, because if I give to reread the literary style seem so frightening that I would eventually refuse to share.
So I leave here (for the "enjoyment? More patient readers) is the rough work as it was conceived by the post-adolescent nerd and beginner more than a decade began to take seriously that writing, not knowing that there was still a long way to go (a long road that I have the feeling of not having traveled or even the thousandth part though, despite this, I'm sooo tired now ...)
In one of the many cities in the world there lived a man. He was a scientist. He was one of the largest and most prestigious scientists in the world ... The largest and most prestigious, some said ... His colleagues took off their hats to him and exclaimed: "What a great man of science! Had there been a few others like him throughout history, and would not be things to discover. " Well this scientist was shown in ample occasions to be able to solve any problem, every mystery, dispel any doubt ... If in the gardens of knowledge appeared anywhere dark and clouded by ignorance, he watered it with her impressive skills in Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics, Biology, Geology, Psychology ... and develops beautiful and complicated theorems, laws outright, insightful hypotheses and theories as solid and crisp truth which FIA awards and decorations very much appreciated and envied in the circles of knowledge and allowed him to publish their articles in prestigious journals such important and almost nobody read.
At school, when his teammates could hardly read, he already knew the mechanisms that operate at Mother Nature, and as he grew up, swallowed the contents with great avidity of all the books and treatises that came his way, so that the surprise adolescence, all the pores of your skin bursting learning, and teachers of the institute, instead of teaching, learning from him.
At one time he thought he had such knowledge be sure to know everything. "Life has no secrets from me", I thought ... and the people around him felt the same. There was no phenomenon that could not explain. His neighbors came to him often to tell unexplained events that someone else would have put the willies ... But he Scientific Method and draws his dissecting the mysteries of life if they were mice.
Thanks to Mathematics and Statistics decided the exact age at which he was to marry and procedures to follow to achieve this goal with precision. Developed a physical and psychological profile of women who, in his experiments and musings, it suited him. Then carried out thorough research to know which places and contexts were higher the chances of finding a woman who responded to all the factors required. And he found ...
He married her on schedule and the right time, and after weeks of marital cohabitation he had recorded in his notebook up as "testing time", concluded that success had smiled in their experiment, because it felt happy and all the circumstances seemed to indicate that he loved his wife.
then and through similar procedures, decided how many children had to have, on what dates and how gender (as this man knew well how to control the sex of children). His wife obeyed always in these things, because I loved him ... and so had two sons and a daughter born with one and three years apart, respectively.
So, five years after his marriage failed to score in his notebook that he wanted his children enormously and drew graphs that showed how complicated grew placidity of her life and the emotional satisfaction that reported theirs.
educated his children with the righteousness of a manual of applied psychology, he knew very well the steps that had to go to become good people, with the necessary dose of happiness. Always used chemical and biological knowledge to feed the right way and get your family might enjoy perfect health ...
His life ultimately turned out to be something like a giant experiment, and once it clarified the gaps of human knowledge and wore away the imperfections of science, his lab produced from their own happiness, without allow any factor of his life escape their control and lead to problems, unhappiness, imbalances, imbalances ... and all its neighbors and friends, all those people who envied and revered at the same time, it was seen that, indeed, I was getting.
But one day when the years had begun to dye his temples with the silver of maturity, his wife and children started their trip to visit relatives, and jumped on a plane not return to land.
So the experiment failed and our man was lonely and dejected. He began to notice that the gears of the machinery of his Happiness no longer fit. The absence of his family life was something I was not ready. Began to feel a strange uneasiness that haunted him every day and every night, every hour, every minute, every second ... The weather became unbearable longer than objectively showed their clocks accurate laboratory. When he slept he had nightmares that vainly tried to interpret their ideas of Freudian psychology ... He broke his notebook, he stopped eating at the times provided for therein, neglected his personal hygiene and, despite knowing that it was appropriate to devote a thirty-seven percent of their time to social life, would not see anyone. He walked around the room of his house destroyed, lost in his torment, his shirt dirty and sweaty forehead ... and sometimes caught himself on a sofa crying bitterly, saying the name of his wife and remembering the smile of your children.
He and many days. The precise clocks in the house were scored by one by one, but he did not realize. Finally, the remains of his rope scientific attitude prevailed over their grief, and our man decided to self-examination with proper cleanliness to establish the true causes of his illness and find a remedy. I was hoping to be going through a temporary discomfort. He had controlled his destiny since he can remember, and was not willing to give up at that time.
returned to visit their books, designed diagrams, listed assumptions ... but failed to explain nothing. Their anguish was not to be portrayed, his unhappiness is not off from him, his nightmares were not to be understood ... and just when I thought of giving up and sinking into the darkest of depressions, his inner science emerged with full force and a brilliant idea echoed in the interior of his brain.
picked one of the many tears I shed every day and prepared to analyze under a microscope, hoping to find in her the secret of their suffering. "Maybe some sights hormone, or any foreign substance ...", he thought. "Something that I provide a clue to follow looking for ... "
And the largest and most prestigious of all the scientists put his tear on glass microscope tray and began to watch closely. Increased the size of the drop all the lenses will allow, but not found what you wanted. "Water ... Just water ... salt water ...". He could not see anything unusual in tears, nothing can explain the torment ... "But something must have!" Shouted the scientist, and decided to stay there, his eye glued to the microscope, without taking his eyes off that damn tear ... until they found something. That was all afternoon, and when the night was in his lab, like a statue, without eating, without drinking, without moving from there ... without departing from the microscope and their tears ... but still did not find anything. Nublársele the light began to be felt extremely dizzy ... but did not remove the eye of the lens. Not only was the largest and most prestigious of all scientific. It was also one of the most tenacious ...
It happened after a whole afternoon and a bit of night, our scientist felt to faint, and then had the feeling that his body slipped through the viewfinder of the microscope as water often does the neck of a bottle ... experienced a rapid decline that tickled her stomach, and saw the tears coming, and approached as if he were rushing towards her. The decline became more and faster, until the scientists do not know if it went up or down, or where he did, or where his feet where his head ... Then went through what looked like a thick wall made of sea water, and that water was so cold that froze felt her heart and lungs, and that his whole body began to sleep undisturbed sleep, lulled by ice arms while still falling. And falling, falling ... and so continued to fall until finally stopped falling.
He opened his eyes y. .. Oh, what you saw! On his head was not the roof of his laboratory, and were not around their test tubes and watch scientists. He was inside a giant bubble that enveloped him as hemispherical dome, and soon realize that the place was so great ... His own tears!
How could that be possible? He had traveled into his own tears! But ... How? Began to look astonished the landscape that surrounded it. His tear was more abrupt and mountainous than I ever would have thought (because there are things that even the largest and most prestigious scientists think ever). Before him lay a landscape of mountains and hills of the same blue color, with winding paths that emerged from them or down the valleys. Jutting cliffs here and there with the most curious. The whole place looked like a carved lapis random and capricious a child's hand, and was bathed in a dim light that filtered through the walls of salt water from the bubble and the blue painted reliefs with reflections from the water.
Impressed with his eyes wide open, our friend began to tour the site. "My colleagues in the scientific circle will be reluctant to believe this," she thought as she admired the fanciful shapes. Some trees seemed sapphire, others were like hammers that threatened to fall apart ... And everywhere flying green bubbles and transparent if they were birds.
walked rapidly, feeling cold, very cold ... and soon he could see far away, on a small hill, something shiny. Decided to go to that place and when he had gone some time, realized that that which shone on the hill was a huge and luxurious crystal palace. A glass palace, with its turrets, with its windows, with its beautiful domes ... What was a crystal palace in tears? Determined to find out, went on his way up that hill, and once there realized that it was in the center of the drop, surrounded by blue mountain scenery, which was displayed to the end of the bubble in all directions.
crossed a sumptuous garden made entirely of glass. Glass trees, glass flowers, glass sand ... and reached the main gate of the palace. The palaces of glass have a curious thing: From the outside you can see all the rooms. It happened like that, standing before the great portal, the scientist saw the central hall of the palace. There, on a carved altar seemed bohemian glass, stood a chest made of pearls and diamonds.
Determined to close the chest, our man crossed the threshold of the door and headed for the central hall leaving rooms and hallways clear crystal. Light rays crashing into the glass walls and turned into beautiful rainbow. After opening many doors and turn many corners finally came to the room safe, and she expected a beautiful woman who seemed made of glowing vapor, such as glass in a gaseous state. "Welcome to my palace," the feminine silhouette, and our man was paralyzed with astonishment, because this woman had the sweet voice of his dead wife!
- Who are you? - The man asked, with curiosity and fear.
- I am part of your tears - said the gas lady - everything you see here has come from within. You have showered us with your tears.
- But ... How is it possible? - He asked himself the largest and most prestigious scientists - What makes this building in my tears?
- In each tear there is something like - said the woman - all have a crystal palace or a castle, or a small house ...
- But ... Why?
- This palace is guarded and protected the heart of tears - she said the sweet voice of his wife lost, pointing with his hand ether mysterious chest in the room.
- That is the heart of the tear? - He asked, looking at the box - What does that mean?
- The heart of a tear is the most important part. It is what gives life to tear, making the tear whatever it is. Not all tears are the same ... There are tears of sadness and tears of joy, tears of despair and melancholy ... and there are empty tears that have nothing to express, simply run away our eyes in a neglect of the soul ... All this is enclosed in the heart of the tear. Every tear is a different world, different from the others ... There are two tears alike, no two identical hearts. In each tear there is something different, because they are enclosed the souls of the feelings that cause them, and feelings are like the sea and rivers, which are always moving and are never the same in an instant and in another.
- then I need to open that box and see what's inside - said the scientist.
- Nothing can stop you - she said - but I advise you do not. It can be very dangerous to enter the heart of a tear.
But he made no case that advice. It had before it the secret he sought, and did not think he had nothing to lose ... So I went to the altar by a staircase made of glass, took a deep breath and opened the lid of the chest with determination.
Like a whisper that grows little by little, began to come out of the box a nice sound reminiscent of the melodious laughter of a child. It was a clean and pure laughter, as the virgin spring water. A smile was profiled in the face of our man ... And the laughter began to grow, becoming more audible ... and as it grew was transformed into a bitter and sad tears, the cry of a being tortured ... The tears filled her anguish and her hair stood on end ... He was crying begging pity not expect to find ... and grew more and more, reaching every corner, pounding on the walls of the room ... Then the tears of sadness and despair became gradually more acute suffering, crying in a most painful ... and the cries of pain over bursting into a scream ... Never heard a scream ... a cry that even the most ruthless of torture would be able to boot of a human heart ... a cry that cracked the walls of the Crystal Palace ... Our man also shouted ... cried like he had never done ... but no one heard ... because there was nobody to hear ... and the truth is not heard nor himself, for his miserable cry was buried by the sound of breaking glass one million non-stop, a waterfall of broken glass in his ears ... Also came from the chest cold. Very cold! A breath of ice ... This will be confused at a concert macabre. Screams, cries, moans, groans, shrieks, howls of pain, crystals that explode and break into pieces, coarse, icy winds, pleading voices, hearts that beat too torn by strong, children screaming through the darkness to tear my throat. Nooooo! Weak and emaciated faces with expressions of perpetual suffering, eyes that they need help, livid hands trying to grab something to save them to an eternal fall. Noooooooo! A whirlwind of horror to pass before your eyes and ears punished. Visions and noises coming out of that trunk as the Evil of Pandora's box. Our man, contorted with pain and broken by fear, he struggled to overcome his fear and took a look inside the chest. The bottom of the box was a mirror. Only God knows what the scientist saw it, but had to be something truly terrible, as his face took on a ghostly pallor and his feet left to hold it for a moment, and he fell down the stairs of the altar. Filled with terror, stood up and started running towards the exit of the palace, retracing every aisle, across the doors as fast as your feet will allow ... and while fleeing, listening to how he chased the shouting, the cries, the cries ... and how they finished behind broken walls and glass ceilings.
When he finally left the palace through the main door, woke up on a chair in his laboratory, awash in sweat and heart beating wildly. Opposite him, in his desk, was the microscope, with that damn tear placed on the glass tray as a harmless water drop. With a sudden movement, an instinctive ... threw the microscope to the ground with his hand to tear himself away. The terror was reluctant to leave him. I could still see, hear, taste, feel ... all those ghosts. Damn tear! Damn heart of tears!
looked again at the small drop, resting on the floor next to the microscope ... A shiver ran through her body ... and then decided that no no tear! should take heart. "The world would be much happier if the tears were no more than water. Saltwater ...". An idea began to take shape in his head. "If tears were just water ... a simple mechanism for protecting the eye from foreign little bodies ... heartless ... lifeless ... without horror ...". And the idea of \u200b\u200bforming finished. Decided to undertake a scientific crusade against tears. Sought to find a way to kill them, leaving them without a heart ... And the world would be happy, as no doubt it was a day long ago, before the tears come to life.
And with these thoughts, with the willful decision of having a mission, the scientist returned to his books and his test tubes, and went to investigate ... again ...
got tears in children and adults, the elderly and animals ... and subjected to all sorts of tests, trying to kill them. So he worked incessantly for many days, barely eating and barely sleeping. When she fell asleep on the table had nightmares that drove him forward. And still ...
did quite acceptable reciting treatises on logic to the tears. Then he recited treaty classical grammar and writing guides for journalism ... and the tears began to fade, as if they lost their lives. Our man was scoring these reactions in your notebook. He also experimented with civil law books and "The Keys Sociological Human Behavior" by Thomas Young ... The tears were weakened when they heard things like that ... He wrote in his notebook ...
When he had enough data, linked all the results of their experiments using a mathematical formula and obtained an equation as logic, was able to destroy the tears and turn them into water, but ... How?
He spent an entire night studying the equation, and realized that it could get a set of musical notes, musical notes and these were a melody ... And that song would kill to tears, I was sure ... Because that song was a little applied logic, and some civil law, and some grammar ...
wrote a score with the calligraphy of a deranged anxious, and the next morning put one hundred tears the table in his laboratory. One of them was hers. He sat before them with a violin and with the score ... and began to play that tune ... It was a monotonous melody, dead ... and made it sound as noticed the tears were starting to die. All but one ... Less than yours ... because their tears were born of his soul and knew the secret ... Her tears were immunized. All other tears were running out of heart, and became plain water. But his no ... Her tears were still there, alive, bright, challenging ...
however, had to admit that the experiment had been a success and could not suppress a "Eureka!" and a welcome break. Then he realized what it all meant. If you gave the world what he had discovered would become a lonely penitent, a shadow in the middle of the rainbow ... Would be doomed to mourn alone, to live with her tears of joy in the midst of other men, no one can understand their pain, but himself ... He collapsed to his knees on the floor. His immortal tears flooded her eyes and her cheeks burned ... Then he thought of his wife and their children ... Then he remembered the crystal palace, and the casket of pearls and diamonds ... Then paraded through his mind all that was inside of the box ... And he knew he had to rid the world of all that, though he had to pay for it the highest prices, but the fruit of his gift to the world was the loneliness, misunderstanding, pain ...
"You have broken my heart," said the scientist. "Now I shatter yours. I swear that when you finish doing what I'm doing will not return any of you born with a heart ... Except mine ...", he said with a sigh. "Except mine ..."
And he turned to get down to work. How do I get to get their holy melody around the world? I could not deliver the melody to other men and reveal his secret. Then it would not work, the tears of everyone immunize ... He thought for five days, walking back and forth in his laboratory, and finally came to mind a great idea. "It will be difficult," he thought "but work."
That day came for the first time in a long time the street and bought large amounts of various metals and foreign material. He shut himself up with all this in your home and manufactured gear and whimsical pieces that had previously designed with great precision. Once all the pieces were made, put them in twenty sacks and went with them to the top of the world's highest mountain. There he assembled them all and built them a huge music box. A music box ready to sound the melody that murdered the tears and get it to anywhere in the world as a murmur imperceptible, but steady ... The box was designed to spin their gear almost forever, longer than you could last man on Earth ... and our friend also addressed that, once ignited, would have no way to stop it. Thus wanted to ensure that in the future (perhaps when it no longer existed in the planet), but discovered some unwelcome music box do not turn off accidentally, causing tears to return to silence.
and our men fired its engine. The music began to emerge with a slight jingle and the winds fanned out all over the world. He stood a moment contemplating his invention ... your wonderful invention ... and then turned and descended the highest mountain in the world to see the results of their work.
nobody knew acclaim. I knew that people would cross the street and could not even suspect that he was the cause of her joy, but he knew he had done the right thing and that was enough ... I knew that from now all the laughter of all men and women lead in his very own. That was the best way you could acknowledge what he had done for them, laughing, being happy ...
This was our man thought when he reached the nearest town ... And then for the first time since he turned his music box, he saw people ... And a sense of disappointment came over him ... Because that People were sad, but he was not happy ... Actually it would be more correct to say that those people were not . I looked through their eyes and could see nothing beyond them, as if they were empty ... as if their bodies were pouring hole, as if their souls had become extinguished embers.
walked through that city and was more horrified when he opened the heart of his tear. Saw people pass him, but did not like people. They talked, they moved ... but did not express anything. Did not feel anything ... His words were born dead ... and no singing, no whistling, no laughing, no smiling ... A car ran over a boy near him. The child died without complaining. The mother also complained. Just looked at the remains of her son and then the driver of the car, with indifference ... "I'm terribly sorry," the driver said with a deadpan tone as he throws a lesson learned by rote, and drove to the next light, where he stopped to wait patiently until the light turns green.
Our man ran blinded by madness. What had I done! What folly had made! Crashed with glass of a nursery. Within the children could see. No play, no pictures, not amused ... They were just there. They just exist. A boy raised his head and looked into my eyes ... and the look of that child was expressionless as that of a corpse. His eyes were two graves, two torches off ...
and our scientists continued fleeing. He left the city and came again, almost without realizing it, to the mountain that had just come down ... and first step, then another, upload it again with an effort to reach the top again. There was waiting for his monster of metal, sounding the melody. The music of his invention seemed to speak to him, saying: "You have given me a life, but I've made a death." And the scientist regretted not having put in that damn thing a button or a lever to stop him.
He went to the box and climbed to the top of the same building on a rock. He opened the lid and saw the evil gears turning, twisting ... squeeze to silence the musical notes one after another ... And then he knew what he had to do. Was placed standing on the edge of the box, muttered to himself the name of his wife, recalled his sweet voice and her sweet eyes ... And she threw herself into the music box, between the gears.
gears began to slow down, breaking their bones, until it stalled. The melody stopped ringing. Our man, dying, he heard the sound of wind and birdsong ... and knew he had returned to the world what he had taken. Died shedding a tear of joy, and while dying he thought: "Who could reach the heart of this tear!"
A Moroccan strawberries just arrived in a markets. Although the fruit is in season point, I'm happy in my diet to include more variety.
This week has done little heat, I would not like a rich dessert. So I just make the white chocolate fondue for dipping the strawberries ... so simple and so light.
The landing of these cookies I think the fig bread, expectations that its texture is soft and smooth. A few years ago, lived in the neighborhood New Jersey (USA) where many immigrants from Italy. The solenoid housewives make the cookies of dried figs for the Christmas season. Normally foman the letter X (for X'mas) or a mini baquette. I have explained in my post English ever, you could see by the photos.
recently bought a packet of dried figs, but displayed little more dry. After poaching in red wine with spice , textures and flavors come out very great, so I made them to be mashed with almonds, chocolate and some spice, become rich, perfectly filling the cookies.
(Traduciré la receta inglesa al español pronto)
Red Wine Fig Cookies
( yield 16 cigar-shaped cookies plus 10 star cookies )
(the following version of mine doesn't include any sugar in the dough, the sweetness would be coming from the fig filling and sugar sprinkle outside)
To make the cookie dough:
300 g plain flour (the one for making bread not suitable)
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
110 salted butter, cold, cut into small cubes
2 very large eggs
(sugar for sprinkling on top)
(1 extra egg for egg wash)
In a large bowl, well combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Drop in the cold butter cubes, use a pastry cutter to further break up the butters while mixing them with the flour until the size of the butter is similar to very coarse cornmeal. Add the eggs and mix, knead briefly if necessary, then you would get a tender and soft (but not sticky) dough.
Divid the dough into three portions. Wrap them well and place them in the lowest shelf of the fridge, rest for a half day. Then roll them into a flat disk, wrap them up again, rest for another 2 hours (at least) in fridge. After that it's ready to use.
1 tsp instant coffee granules, crushed into powder
* select the figs a bit dried which are more suitable for poaching. If yours already moist enough, you can follow Nick's ingredient list then .
Bring the spice-infused red wine to boil, add the dried figs, lower the heat and let the liquid simmers for 15 minutes or before the figs are turning too soft. Drain the figs very well. Process them into a paste. Then combine it with ground almond, chocolate and coffee powder. Taste and adjust the texture/ flavor by adding a bit more fig or chocolate or almond if necessary.
To assemble the cookies
To make the cigars - Roll one portion of doughs to 2 mm thick, try to roll it to a rectangle shape. Then refrer the step-by-step photos of my previous post for wrapping in the filling. The difference is, this time I made the log bigger, and with a help of very sharp razor blaze I made 2 slits on top of each cigar. Egg wash and sprinkle sugar allover the top of the cookies.
To make the star cookies: Roll one portion of doughs to 2 mm thick. Use a cookie cutter to cut out 20 pieces of dough. Spoon the fig filling on 10 of the pieces, cover the top with another plain piece. Egg wash, and generously sprinkle sugar on top (please note this type of cookies is not able to hold a lot of filling like cigar cookies do, so it's better to sprinkle more sugar outside)
Pre-head the oven to 170F.
Bake the cookies
for about 15 minutes, you CAN lower the heat to 165 F in the last 7 minutes if the cookies turn brown too quick.
mention these two cases because both drag me to one thought. Something that every writer is raised while working on the rundown of such series, or when looking into the possible rewrites of such length.
And the writer who has a definitive and convincing answer, cast the first stone. I refer to the eternal dilemma of what things are needed in your script and what not needed.
If we listen to people like Aristotle or Robert McKee, one must respect sacred rule: If you remove anything from your script and yet the story still works, that means plenty of that element. It is not necessary in your plot. All it does is ensuciártela and hinder.
lash do not think that standard. I consider it very useful in most cases. But when one becomes obsessed with this maxim, the thing begins to have some fear. You go into a quasi-religious dynamics, as if you wrote with secateurs rather muses.
I do not feel entitled to theorize about these issues, so I'll just have a couple of stories. The stories seem less arrogant than theories. Talk about concrete things, with no pretensions to universality. That, on the other hand, maybe the foxes become dangerous. The first story is from when working on the script for Zombie Western . We were on the fourth version and we were still trying to clean it of expendable items. Not only a matter of effective narrative. Also we should have lightened by duration and budget issues.
advantage that we would spend a few days Copenhagen, our "partners" Danes insisted that we had a chat with a very reputable script analyst living in Copenhagen. The guy called Lars, like almost all Danes. I do not remember his name.
I was a bit wary. I've met really cenutrios script analysts. There is a great lack of professionalism in that sub-guild. In Spain do not take that job seriously is configured so that anyone can play. And they wanted a Danish analyst metiese their claws into our script!
nosequé We met Lars and I had to eat my misgivings with potatoes (tuber, on the other hand, constitutes 80% of gastronomy Danish). For the analyst, in my opinion, got it right in almost everything we proposed. We made recommendations extremely helpful and very intelligently exposed.
Now there was a sequence in the script that did not contribute much to the time of advancing the plot. From a narrative point of view was expendable, but I was very sorry to lose it. Call it "the scene of a whore" so to speak.
As I listened to the analyst, was intrigued about what the hell was going to say about "the scene of a bitch." But that guy did not even mention that scene in the changes that we proposed. When finished them advice, I had to be me who asked directly:
- Did not take away the "scene whore"?
- No. I would keep it in the script - he replied.
- Why? - Because it is funny.
Those three words (maybe four, because the conversation was in English) was a blow that catapulted me back into the real world and I took off a lot of nonsense.
"Because it's funny!"
We were writing a comedy, dammit! That was fine cleaning seeking narrative, but the priority was to make people riese.
Sometimes, if your script offal apparently dispensable certain things, you end up hospital food cooking. You know what I mean. This tray with boiled chicken that has no juice and slices of carrot aseptic, without dressing. And a soup without salt. This very healthy, very clean, nutritious intentionally. A meal to be more effective, has been deprived of all the leftovers: The aceitito, golden skin of the chicken, french fries.
That, in turn, reminds me of the second story: In college I had to professor Jordi Grau script. Those were the strangest classes and poetic script I received. Grau One day, when we talked about Aristotelian whole thing, we gave an example:
"Imagine a sequence in which a boy meets a girl in a park. They fall in love, kiss, go together. But instead of moving to the next sequence, half a minute we were watching the empty park, but nothing special happens in it. Only the chirping of birds, a falling leaf ... Is that right according to Aristotle's Poetics? "
Grau himself gave us his opinion: "Well according to what the intentions of the author, it may be correct. Because if not add anything from a narrative point of view, does yield a flavor, a score that allows us read that history in the proper key in the right tone. "
I have had to invent some words. Jordi Grau sure what would have explained a lot better (and would have taken half an hour to do so)
And that comes back to connecting with my approach: Perhaps some of those things that seem too many are there for the food not as a hospital.
Those things are salsa, cheese, olive martini.
Have you noticed the amount expendable material that is in this post? If you've read this blog in the past, you already know I usually leave the bush without realizing it, but this time I did it on purpose.
might have told the same information in half the time, so much more agile and probably more effective. I have included comments that come to mind, I have delayed counting irrelevant things instead of going straight to the point. I even told two anecdotes redundant to each other! With one of the two would have sufficed to explain my conclusions.
Perhaps because it has left me a post harder to read. Perhaps the spread of scare and deter entry by half of the readers. But I assure you I felt a sinful pleasure, almost erotic in doing so deliberately wrong. ( The image crown comes from the blog entry http://demadamex.blogspot.com) CHTMLXC
O Galo Kiriko ore volveu old ways / El Gallo Kiriko the business again
For those who do not know it, the cock Kiriko is a children's story (which I whistled listen). At the root of my children want to represent the idea of \u200b\u200bmaking felt finger puppets, accompanied by rhymed narration in Galician. I've done several times the performance, but never enough and we must pull them from time to time (but bored everyone in your bag).
This time the cock feathers adorned presumed to attend a child class, where no one who is more fun if the kids or me. The truth is that I love doing it and this time he has been better than ever.
Once my son and I improvised the storyteller in the Well three wishes , a library of Cangas (Pontevedra). If you want to see pictures follow this link or this other .
recently published a post on the papier mache, do you remember?, I put a picture of a pink elephant made of papier mache art, well, I received an email from Mexico, a guy who wanted to help her make one. When I started thinking about how to explain it, it seemed a drag having to write it, so the explanation I have given graphically, and I can not do in person.
Since I've been working with more people wanted to share, so here's the elephant as it rose.
Once my mother told me that his father eventually to children every meal when I was little - apple slices dipped in homemade red wine. In these days, that's not what kids dream of because tenen an abundance, which is more rich and luxurious. But in this era (very poor), but having an ability to offer something (which was not a concern) is a great blessing. Recently
recipes (so elegant!) Pear wine is displayed in many cooking items. Make an obvious constrained modest dessert my mother. Although now I give a choice to make the cake nice pear sorbet or improvise, for example, I'm still faithful to the basic and classic is that it's Finally!
To infuse the spices in red wine :
1 / 2 cup water
3 / 4 cup sugar 2 cups
your favor red wine
1 large cinnamon stick 3 cloves
Cook the
all to a boil, and boil and simmer for 15 minutes.
To cook the pears
3 pears, ripe and firm
Peel pears and cut in half if large. Infused soak in wine for 1 night. Then, boil the wine to a boil, add the pears and boil it all simmer for 5 minutes, skimming during cooking to remove impurities. Remove from heat and drain the pears when they are soft enough.
just returned to Barcelona in America. Went to visit my mother, had a good time and ate outside the home often. In fact, the way of cooking in America is very healthy, I think low in salt and fat, while the portion we ate care, can keep our weights without pain:)
Well, we would also care when we take these polvorones. Are usually flour, sugar, lard or butter, nuts (some with cinnamon or sesame seeds or coconut or red wine ...). They are delicious (and so hot) that we can not eat less: D While we eat a little, this festival season we only fill the sweet sensation but not kg: D
paper mache elephant or bye bye to my little collection of cameras
I say goodbye, because I will keep all close together in a box as a remembrance of past technology, now that I have a new "digital imager eye."
I do not know who it is they or I cry, a lot has happened since the first camera I had, that is there among all the others, the more little one (at the LHS. Of the Canon), is a toy, such that looking through the viewfinder you saw a photograph, a souvenir from somewhere in the world, do you remember?, every time you pull the trigger, changed the picture ... They are all part of my life and have given many of the image moments lived, can not forget ... not any more that I have not managed to find, Where are they? . The Polaroid
'll tell you later, because I'll get a little closer, now that is more fashionable than ever and re-sell the film cartridges. It is unique, what say?.
Glad to Perdigón introduce a new friend in the distance and Cookie Rufo. It has done Yolanda THE GARDEN OF Bernie for your child. Is not it great? I love curly hair and has added a button eye. The good thing about DIY is that horse is done with what you have at home and so each has its own personality. I hope that if you urge to do so, Rufus will soon have many more partners and more children run around with them. I promise that just steals time.
