According to some Welsh social scientist, yesterday (Jan. 21 - the third Monday of January), is supposedly the most depressing day of the year - it's claimed it has something to do with the weather (and thus, I suppose, would be only a Northern Hemisphere phenomenon), distance from Christmas (which then I suppose makes it a Christian or at least Christmas-celebrator specific phenomenon) and generally not having things to look forward to.

But I tend to figure that life is what we make of it. And actually, yesterday, I was pretty content. I stayed home


Lit the candles I had scattered on the mantel and the fireplace



Read, both seriously and frivolously (and no, I do not know why it's called "Aranzi Machine Gun." It's a book of short comic strips that tend to be that kind of inscrutable-odd-cute that only the Kawaii Movement of Japan can be once it's translated into English. And now I want the other two volumes).



And knitted on the newest Clapotis, which I am making out of some Cleckheaton Wool Silk.

And of course, it being the day it was, I reflected on how we may not be PERFECT as a nation (in how we treat each other, especially in how we treat people who look different from us), but we're a lot farther along than we were before Dr. King.


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Addendum:

Charlotte, you can use cooking spray. I would have but I was out. And you can also cover the onions - I suspect you could even do them in a covered pan (like a Dutch oven or something) on the top of the stove over low to medium heat as well as in the oven.