Strangely Useful

I have an addition to my strangely useful category: the little heated pad my mother gave me, intended for wrapping round a rheumatic knee, or on an aching tum.

Its new manifestation is as constant low heat to bring on bread dough and Kombucha culture. Now that the weather is crisper, and without the British institution of an airing cupboard (they don't even know the term here), my usual corner is too chill.

Further on the airing cupboard theme - isn't it the little things which make one feel alien? The light switches go on UP not on DOWN, the US tends to have forced air not radiators, I had to hunt for a heated towel rails, and towels get sad and damp here as there. Neat little Brit boilers are roaring US furnaces, and no-one has heard of HWCs or (my circle comes complete), airing cupboards. On the West Coast, anyway.

Biscuits are cookies, scones are biscuits which makes a nonsense of the word, grilling is broiling, and pints are not pints. I do enjoy the alien corn though, thank you.

So, my Kombucha had developed nasty small dots of fungus and the fermentation had patently not taken place, it was still sweet and insipid, so I will see if gentle warmth helps it on. If not I shall dump that batch, salvage some untainted pancake and try again.