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More on the Spotted Dick situation

From an IM conversation last night --
azurelunatic: And -- I am making Spotted Dick.
nalidoll: always fun.. and even more fun to be able to slip into conversation.
azurelunatic: Yes.
azurelunatic: This is my practice dick.
azurelunatic: I'll be making more Spotted Dick for April Fool's Day.
nalidoll: see, if only that sentence got more use in society. "this is my practice dick" has so much potential.

At any rate, I mixed up the Spotted Dick around ten last night, so since the instructions say to steam it for four hours, that meant that it was done around two in the morning. Nevertheless, I was out of bed and off to school and at my 7:00 am class nearly on time. (I actually fell asleep somewhat after midnight, and set the timer so that I checked the water periodically and got it out when it was done.)

votania is taking it to work with her to give to her friend who she promised a dessert to. I hope she'll call home and tell me how he likes the taste of my Spotted Dick. I didn't make custard, though, and a Spotted Dick without any juicy custard to moisten it can be a dry thing indeed. I hope that it is not so hard that he won't be able to enjoy it, but just firm enough, because a limp Spotted Dick is a travesty and an outrage.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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