Ahahahaha, you guys, we went to a yin yoga class (mostly floor poses, held for several minutes) this evening. And the music was your basic floaty kind of yoga music, whatever. The class was good, most of the poses were working for me, so I'm happy.

And we get to the last pose (corpse pose), and I'm chilling on the floor, focusing on my breathing...and "Hallelujah" comes on the stereo.

I shit you not.

I didn't burst out laughing, but only barely.

Yes, but, Teppy, which version?

I think it was the Jeff Buckley version.

And we get to the last pose (corpse pose), and I'm chilling on the floor, focusing on my breathing...and "Hallelujah" comes on the stereo.

I think it might work in corpse (okay how much do I love my yoga dude that he hasn't called it corpse pose and skipped a part when we do the pose and he comments that we "are grateful that we are not a corpse" since my Dad died. I'm probably to a place it'd be okay most times but he never asked and just changed his class for me. He's really the kindest person. He changes two classes a week for me and I should thank him.) but I'd still giggle a little. Hopefully internally. I still prefer other music though.

The teacher calls it savasana, but I feel a little pretentious referring to it that way. I don't know why. Maybe because I'm a drop-in yoga practitioner? Dunno.

I especially like when they call it "final rest," because I think they are trying mean "end of the class," but no.

Meringue report: They were not at all crisp by the time I got there, which was disappointing, but they were well-received, and once I started thinking of it as strawberry shortcake, I was fine with it as well.

Other than upping the baking powder, what's my best bet for getting air back in?

Separate the eggs and beat the whites?

Okay, kids, I need a little support. It was kinda a crappy day anyway, so I dunno why I thought it would be a good idea to finish this project, but I'm transferring my (beloved, late) grandmother's storytelling cassettes into digital format. I'm not actively listening to them, which is maybe making things worse, because I keep, you know, sweeping or making chili or whatever, and hearing her voice coming from the studio. And I'll have to hear it for several passes more while I do some processing on it. I'll be glad to have it preserved, and my mother and sister will be happy to hear it again after so many years, but you know, she's dead.

I feel sad when people die.

Aw, Liese. It is sad when people die! That sounds like a great thing you are doing.

You're doing a good thing, Liese. Your preserving her memory and making sure it survives. Death sucks, mostly for the living.