I am baking pies. Little yummy ones with lentils and wholemeal spelt flour. My lesbianism has nothing to do with my diet.





It is day whatever...23. I reckon we're out of the red zone. Really it should be called the green zone as it is the fertile period and the period period should be called the red zone.





Lemme just check the pies.





Ohmygod they're very exciting. I made the goddamn pastry. Soon I shall be growing wheat and milling flour. I have rocket seedlings sprouting, by the way. And an eggplant for whom all I did was water without hope for a year and a half. So that's promising isn't it?




So we planted quite a few seeds over the last week and now we wait...and we do NOT (I do not) read my body. Or any tetchy little pangs or feelings or hysterical pregnancies that I might feel between now and the end of the cycle. No, nothing means anything.





The only way to get through the next nearly 2 weeks is to bake and eat and wear lots of brown.