In any case, he survived his ordeal, and spent the rest of last night and today making odd noises every time he moves. It's kind of amusing, although of course I feel sorry for him and his predicament. He did manage to wash his hair this morning, despite his prediction of last night that he wouldn't be able to do so.

In order to help ease my way into the Brave New World of pressure cookery, I bought a couple of pressure cooker cookbooks while we were at home. I also bought a book on fondue, so I foresee a fondue party in the very near future, which will be either Big Fun or a Complete and Utter Disaster. But back to the pressure cooking.

Today I made stew. I made the same stew that I always do, actually, but used the methods and timing from some of the recipes in my new books.

Well, sort of. Thing is, they disagree as to the timing. Significantly, as it turns out. Guess I should have bought that third book I was looking at, so I could go with the majority. In the end, I split the difference, leaning toward the timing in the book that has more general theory instead of just recipes. When I released my pressure and checked the meat for doneness, the cube I speared shredded itself right off the fork.

No problem with tenderness, then, eh?

The potatoes are looking a bit ravaged as well, although I'm sure they'll taste just fine. Note to self: next time, decrease the time.

The proof, of course, will be in the eating. And from the sounds I hear (or don't hear) from the bedroom, Elvis has managed to extricate himself from his suit (the jacket was a real killer, it seems, even worse than the shoes).

Time to eat, in other words.

Not only that, one of our friends that's just arrived on the project has brought the seasons of Buffy we have been desperately seeking on DVD. Today, he brought them into the office to lend them to us.

Slayage and stew.

It just doesn't get any better than that.