After Shock

 Looking at the "world" today, there are countless people saying things such as "the world is sick". In further explanation, they repeat media reports of all the negative events that are occurring. Most of these events are either broad or close to home. One asks, why? My take is that we are, globally, having "after shock". The pandemic affected every person on this lovely blue "marble", our planet earth. There was no escape other than vaccine and since the "world" responded by making sure we, and our loved ones, went that step to protect human kind, we got through it. Not everyone got through it and I believe that we are still in a state of grieving. Grief behaves in so many ways. The stages of grief are described by those keen on human psychology are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance/hope, processing these.  They have no particular order and there must be stages within stages. I am not an expert but merely one who meditates on things like this. In my form of meditating, I do not empty my mind and make cooing sounds. I open it and let whatever flows from outside inside to take only a look but not allowing entry. What I see when I peruse the news daily on line and in the radio air, I sense that the shootings and wars and crimes: one against another. shows these stages when looking  at the broad picture. In short, what's going on in the world? We are grieving. Covid as we call the enemy that gripped us all, is mostly over. Too many are still suffering the physical after effects, but that remains what I call "after shock". When we were in lock-down, we could no longer associate  in large groups. That aspect was important in making us feel we weren't alone. In the pandemic, we could no longer find relief in understanding that we actually stood together as a people. Many, who hungered for the larger picture of their human situation in their lives, were suddenly by themselves. There was no opportunity to get out and let it out. There were no big parties or celebrations with friends and family. Associations at work or play or duty or learning or social life at all could happen. Those tending the sick, were forced to do  jobs but at great risk and sacrifice. The reached exhaustion and there was no end. The entire world was affected. It was war. When, for the majority, it ended after two of more years of stress, we all, vaccinated, could go outside and about, and remingle. But it isn't that simple for everyone. We were, still in a state of post traumatic expression to one degree or another. It can be called "after shock". The waves of it are mostly dwindling, but some odd and dreadful expressions of it can be seen around us. When we were in our small groups or alone during the pandemic, we had to look closely at our own personal selves. Sometimes, too closely. Although we loved the person or persons that we were, we could no longer find  outlets amongst other groups. We had to face up, like in a convex or concave mirror, who we really were. Most found ourselves as never before and were filled with its comfort. Some, not.  They react and remain in an opposite realm and are expressing it. We are in after shock but we are climbing out of it, each in our own way. We remember that the earth and all its people are gifts: what we love and who we love and who we are. Let's take joy and hope.

Décor Sells?

 Décor trends, as seen in home-beautiful magazines puts pressure on home owners like never before. Fortunately, the all-white-is-the-only-right fad is ending. What is NOW, is being environmentally responsible, with less fad or big empty spaces, into pragmatism. There is no such thing as minimalism any more. It never happened anyway. When the new owner moved in, their stuff did too. The stagers who shove the seller out of the way and  basically tell them "Lovely, but your stuff is out, and mine's in. People want to imagine their own things here and yours just distract them". But don't forget,  your home is yours alone. You call the shots. Be firm.  Decor is important. No doubt. But, the main rule is simple: some kind of order and always, cleanliness. It's like gardening. You can make tight little straight rows marching along, or group. If you are collector of objects, arrange a group or scene. Some, as you, I  put on shelves, things I have collected to make memories. If so, we could arrange to tell a tale. If it's little china figurines, place them to "say" something. If it's baseball caps on the wall, put them in some order. That gives the person who looks on, a story and we all enjoy a story.  As to the big furniture, never line it up along the walls. A room is not an arena. A room is a place to sit down and converse with others. Let your your visitors find there, a comfortable spot to sit with you. Those who live in palaces with gigantic rooms, know how to do it. In their big empty spaces, they make cozy seating arrangements and a nice place between the two, to put things upon. The other parts of the room, if big enough, can hold small groupings: a games table  or a reading corner. Even a small room can do this. Make your rooms places for people, not realty camera men with  expanding lenses. Those things lie and we all know it.  When buyers come around, if they can't see that you have a place for real and warm people, not movie stars, they will know it. They might not buy it, but they can see the potential. They are not idiots with pockets full of money. They're going to renovate anyway. Remember that your realtor is not your BFF. It is somebody who is  doing business.  They are terrific, hard-working folk, and their warmth is part of what they do to make a living. Here today and gone tomorrow. Richer.  And let's all get away from the white and grey paint thing. If you like red, do red. But do it with love. When I sold my last place, I said no thanks to the stager.  My new renovated place is also me and my lifestyle. I don't live in a magazine. I am the one who lives here, not the mag editor. Make your home a place that you love to come home to. Your buyer will know it. It will still sell. Like you,  another city dweller , I get realtor calls many times a week. I say politely, "It's not for sale. I'll call you if it is. This is MY home."

Clean Up Close

 Most appliances we buy are marvellous convenience objects and they are also smart about the environment but one aspect is missing. When I came into my condo, it had been renovated and the reasonably priced appliances were all new. To pay an exorbitant price for a stove or any other kind of kitchen appliance that merely does what they all do, to me, it ridiculous and if so, highly priced works for show-offs only. Today's equipment is built, or should be, on watching out for the environment. I can't complain about any of mine, especially the low budget washer, one that has controls  that read water levels be only up to what is necessary. To fill a washer to the top with hot water to do a few items is not helping our environment.  And I won't even start on the cute window type washing machines, no better than the others. But that's fashion even in the kitchen. Today, I opened my fridge door and as often happens, I tipped over a container. Whoops. That event forced me to take a closer look at the door of the beast when I was cleaning the spill. "What is that?" I screeched? It was a tiny tomato half that had dropped into a hidden area at the bottom of the half-door and had lodged there perhaps for years. What remained, was only a dried pile of little seeds and part of the red skin. Looked like a mummy. It was easy enough to clean up, but because, like everyone else, I simply don't take time to peer at the secret areas of the doors of any of my appliances when I am cooking. I have the time, but I don't take the time. On micro inspection, I noted that the door had a soft plastic substance lining its  edges. There were ridges that pleated all along its length  to provide a cushion to make a seal. But the seal at the bottom of the door entrance had, inside it, numerous bits of food and grit that were almost impossible to view ordinarily.  On very close examination, out came the q tips I keep in my kitchen drawer for this purpose, and cleaned out the seal cavities. They were a mess. My stove has similar almost invisible situations in places, as does the dishwasher seal. Why oh why don't the engineers who design these fixtures, address the cleaning issues? They are important. My answer to my own question, is that they aren't the cleaners in their households. There should be no place for germs to hide and all areas should be easily cleaned. When a stove is installed it is pushed into a space between cabinet sides and when in use, food tends to fly or drop down into the spaces between cabinet and stove top. It is inevitable. The stove must be dragged out to clean the mess that eventually occurs. This is true of many places in a kitchen. The food prep room is a place that should be thoroughly cleaned just as we expect of any decent restaurant. Bugs and bacteria love kitchens. They are a nice warm spot with lots of food for people and for them also. It's the one place that responsible humans should keep pristine to avoid sicknesses. As we have learned some lethal ones such as pandemic spreaders, make it mandatory. But appliance engineers need to do their part. When buying a new appliance, we have to look beyond its prettiness to what really counts. Sheer and clear.

Text Schmext

 No. I do not text. I don't like texting, never did and find it uncomfortable, silly and unnecessary. Why is it when I am speaking to someone in business they say, I'll text you? No thanks. Don't do it, don't like it, don't want it. And it isn't because I am old and blub blub am not able as many nitwits think, that elders can't handle technical things due to being ancient and thus stupid. I live here and now, the same as you. I am your contemporary.  There is nothing hard about any kind of electronic device. If you can do it, so can I.  Sure. I will email you. But I do not consider the texting ignorant use of short hand letters, conversation. It is not language, it is what we used to do in the "old" days called Pig Latin. Nothing new. I am not a fan of cell phones to begin with. They have wonderful uses rarely, but most of the time, they are merely a tolerable nuisance device. I do not care to keep something in my hand constantly. I don't have pockets as men do. In a handbag, it can't be heard. Mercifully. If someone wants to speak, with me, they will talk with me later.  And make it snappy and of use. I am not going to go shopping or walking down the street blabbing into air saying nothing practical. I do not want my friends with me every second of  my day, and I certainly do not care to be looking at videos and pictures of a family other than my own. I am sure they are lovely but I don't want to be bombarded every minute with what you are doing. I am not going to tell you everything I do, and I don't want to know about you do every minute of your day. I do like cell phones for minor needs such as meeting places and emergencies. That is what they were made for presumably. Kids might have a ton of time to gab on cells, but I don't want to use mine gabbing. For you, fine. Me, no. Texting is uncomfortable for all fingers and mistakes are common, not that most texters care. Also, when I am discussing some sort of business matter, I am not going to send a cell photo of what we are talking about. Get here, speak with me, show me, and then we'll work on it. Online companies assume that everyone in the world is on a cell phone and they can be texted. Nope. Not me. Never. And many people feel just as I do. They have a life.  Email me in people words with periods and commas and capitals and so on. Use your words; don't abbreviate. It is not intelligent even if you, personally, think that anyone who doesn't favour texting to be "old fashioned", "outdated" or "uncool". Who cares? TALK. SPEAK. Language and tone and expression is what makes us human. AI voices are a tone joke. It is like having hacked up hash instead of steak hearing them.  Sometimes when I am online, the auto voice tells me to text this or that to effect what we are trying to achieve. You cannot say "no".  There is no NO on the menu to tell them, hey, I don't text and don't use a cell phone unless I have to. You are not going to get a text and I am not going to receive one.  At home, I don't want to take a chance on dropping my cell into the spaghetti sauce  or the washing or the dog's bowl. Sure, I want to hear the phone ring and tell me who is calling and when I don't run to take the call, I expect my phone to keep the number so that I may call the person back when it is convenient. I have things to do. And I never want to hear someone I am visiting with, hear a ring or a jiggle on their cell phone and say "I have to take this". You take it, and I'm gone. 

Floors Me

"Floors me" is an old fashioned expression that everyone seems to know. Who said it first? There are countless ways of using the term "floors me" but I can't find who spoke it first. Maybe AI? The word "floor" has actually to do with floors. When you are "floored" you might be struck down so that you end up on the floor. Take boxing for example. But what floors me today, is my neighbour upstairs who I hope doesn't read this blog. She is a lovely lady, and not specifically the kind of whom I rant about, even though she is a floor worshipper according to the tending sounds I hear above.  The floor fetish people are those who must have perfect floors. I am not among that breed and I insist that my housekeeper never shine my floors. I have, deliberately, the kind of flooring that is made to look like real wood, but which it isn't, thank goodness, because real wood floors take a lot of fussing. My plasticky floor will last far longer than real wood because plasticky things do. That's a good and a bad thing. But today, I refer to the persons who are not happy unless their floors are shiny. The purpose of a floor is for walking upon. Have we lost that idea?  I can heartily understand that when someone tracks grit inside or an animal tracks and that the floor owner might become a bit obnoxious over it. Out would come the mop, and the track leavings would hopefully disappear because no matter how casual you are about the floors in your home, you want them to look presentable. Furthermore, if you leave mud or any kind of goo on your floor, it has a way of spreading viciously. The floor fetish humans of whom I speak, are those who spend hours at their floors. They steam them, they polish them, vacuum them and scrub them. They become upset when someone drops anything, including water onto their floors. Examples of this kind of illness in seeing floors as iconic, are something that I don't understand. These kinds of floors apparently should never be trod upon because it might destroy their pristine appearance. What are floors for?  My mother would not dole out our weekly allowance until we girls, had not only washed the kitchen and bathroom floor, but also, applied a layer of self polishing wax liquid that took an hour to dry. We wanted to get to the Saturday matinee.  We learned very quickly, the age-old rule of "don't paint yourself into a corner" for one thing.  Once, we made a terrible mistake, and neglecting in our haste, to read the words on the container, applied, instead of liquid wax, window washer, the kind that dries and forms a gritty paste. Collecting our allowance that Saturday took so long that we missed the movie matinee entirely. One of my friends today, inspects her floor diligently as soon as the housekeeper goes out the door. And if she can spot in the light of the window  any sort of cross hatching marks rather than going-with-the-grain ones on the hardwood,  she is very unhappy and has words with her cleaning lady. I have warned my cleaning lady never to put a shine on my floors. She may mop them and wipe up any spots but she is never to wax. My brother in law who never reads my blog, so I am safe, gets hysterical if my sister drops even water on his floors because he is the one who washes them. To a fault. It floors me. Large, tall office buildings spend huge amounts of money hiring people to keep their floors shiny. They have floor mavens who work all night because in the day, there are too many people spoiling their work. They do this fetish every single day. It floors me. 

The Media Party

 Most free countries have the basic liberal versus conservative parties with others more or less the same colours ranting on, on either side. It's nothing new to say that the media, or news folk, feed on what goes on between the two, and have panels of "experts" go on and on about their opinions. Lately, however, well, lately in terms of forever, the media experts hold far more power than we or they believe they have. First of all, if you are invited to speak on a panel, you get free advertising. I note that now, some of the panel members of my favorite radio, yes, radio station, also get a free ad for whom they work or their own business, when introduced sitting on a panel. Somehow, that doesn't add credibility to me, the listener. When I hear such, I wonder if that is why the individual allows themselves to be interviewed about his/her opinion. Cross the country ads are pretty costly. Is it a form of pay to appear? Well, that's just me doing my critiquing of what I see and hear these days. What got to me this morning listening to my favorite station, the one that we all pay for in our tax buck, or bird, is that the persons being interviewed in a serious vein were reporters. Reporting to me, is merely objectively telling what the elected members of our parliamentary system are doing. But now, it seems that the reporters have become the experts and their opinions have become far more than reporting. They have bias. I am not criticizing; I am reporting what I hear being reported. Heresay of a form? Perhaps. This concerns me because these days, people don't seem to want to read words, they want most everything pumped into their ears while they are doing other things. You carry with you, everyday and every minute, a rather dangerous, in some ways, object. It's called a cell phone. Podcasts and video ops and minute to minute broadcasts and articles and books can be  spoken into your ear, thus your brain. That may seem an innocent endeavor to you, but to me, a constant rendering of sounds into your ear is close to brainwashing. Someone, like ancient me, who remembers real posters with powerful messages on walls regarding the war  were powerful and remembered. World War Two, is what it was called and the entire world, split in two, was seeing mostly young males, weaponing at each other and killing off thousands. Now we have "little" wars and the media has its trucks and mics and brave reporters all over it making videos and so on, while the rest of us go about our business checking out "the war over there" from time to time on our phones. Huh? HUH? There is something off balance here. In this country, I live on the West Coast or the Wet Coast, as our snowed in eastern side calls us, and what goes on in Ottawa is, to the majority of us,  something as far away as a foreign land. It hasn't a lot of meaning, most of it. It's a sort of video game at arms length and we hear the odd familiar name here and there but we don't pay a lot of attention to it and it doesn't seem to us either.  Oh, there are the few passionate political guys but the rest of us worry more about what we can do something about such as the rent or mortgage payment next month and the grocery bill and how our kids are doing and dealing with warnings survival of the planet. What we want here, far away from the latest investigations into things that appear and disappear when the media tires of it, or the planning that seems to be bigger than the doing. Excuse me, I need a cappuccino. 

Need A Car?

 Where I live, most of the people are retired or semi retired. Many of the couples have two cars. They are intelligent individuals and I am sure they have considered the fact that they really don't need two cars when a bit of planning and compromising would allow them to get rid of one of them. We are within walking distance of a large mall property that contains health and dental services, financial offices and fitness centres. There is, on the property, a major grocery outlet along with the usual clothing and shoe stores and technical and hardware businesses. Why not walk? It would help the environment a whole lot if we all began to think about Need and Responsibility. Do I "need" two cars or more. One chap I know has a summer car and a winter car and those who have teens in the house usually have numerous vehicles hanging around outside.  Motorized or electric vehicles all use global resources to run. Children are much healthier if they walk to school, to their sports clubs and games and to parks and other recreational places. Do adults who are concerned about their kids' futures, really need to drive them to a school two or three blocks away? Outside of most schools,  there are whole roads designated for parental waiting in cars,  when most of the kids, and their parents, should be walking them to and from homes which are, I am sure not more that a quarter of a mile off. One side of our brain  tells  us we must do something about natural resources, pollution and recycling but at the same time, the other side forgets to look under our very noses at what we can be doing to help the planet. Little Greta whose passion for taking a stand on what she believes must be admired, but hopefully, there is follow up in her own  life. I noticed a picture of her sitting in large costly sail boat that was filled with elegant equipment made at the expense of the environment. What we do in our everyday lives can make a difference, a small one, but every bit counts. That sounds trite but it is true. Do you really need to have every light bulb in the house on all day? Can't you walk, if you can do so, to where you want to go. Do you jump into your car to go to the neighbour's  dinner party? If  you don't like public transportation, try walking. Some folks go out and walk for miles every day as their sport, but get into their cars to go three blocks to the mall. Oh, they say, we need to have the car for the groceries. What about a cart? There are a million excuses for using cars and it seems the ones that take the most oil and gas are the most expensive. It's a matter of pride. Why drive a car that costs thousands upon thousands more that costs the environment to build and ship, when you can get one that costs way less and is sold right around the corner. Most  drivers are spending their fuel money sitting in traffic jam ups daily. No one wants to take busses and trams because, they say, it denies freedoms of various sorts. Is it worth "freedom" when you are stuck on the highway, burning fuel and messing up the air going nowhere.  Who complains about the "heat dome" or the floods or the frozen pipes and  ice broken tree branches? We do. We are part of the problem and if we do nothing at all to help do our part,   there should be no complaints. Do we need to wash clothes and use the dryer four times a week or the dishwasher every second day when once a week would do.  Do you recycle as much as you possibly can? Do you compost? Time to sit down and take a look at what we do and change. Even a little?  

Cloud Tales

 If you are looking for a way to entertain your grandchildren and you've read all the picture books and played all of the board games you can abide, go outside with them and on a nice day, find a grassy place where you can lie on your backs and look up at the clouds. On a sunny day when the clouds are white and puffy and sailing along, they make for perfect story telling.  You can take turns telling their tales. Ah, see that castle. Who do you think lives there?  Hurry because that castle is about to fly apart and then perhaps, oh just perhaps, we shall see who is inside. Yes, there she is, the princess and over there you can see a dragon. But it's a friendly one, and there is someone riding on its back. Oh, it's not a person, it's a very odd animal. What kind of animal is that? True. It's a little cat but it has too many legs. And such a huge tail. And what is it looking at? Do you see what I do, the big bird far above. Over there, and behind it, a whole string of bounding bunnies. Look at them all. That's an example of how clouds tell stories. They are endless ones.  Mountain sides can do the same. The patches of logged off areas, of steep valleys  and falling waters make for stories. One of the mountains, my grandies and I found every time we took them to and from their home in the valley, were of the mountains and we always found the prince and his private dragon. Or was it a princess and her dragon? We made up stories about what the characters had conquered on their travels and sometimes if we blurred our eyes we could make out some of the weird animals they rescued. Looking with children at natural things leads to story telling, and along with that you could mention that all early civilizations worldwide, made stories and legends and folk tales about what they saw in the real and natural world. If you take the time to find out what some of the global legends and tales of different countries are, you will find the same story lines in every culture. They are basically the same as ours. There are princes and princesses, magical folk that do good and bad things, creatures that threaten and heroes that save people and romantic rescues, on and on. In your own family, especially with grandparents who have lots of time to play with their grandchildren, what you see, can make up wonderful tales just by looking around and finding something inspiring. The shapes and colours take you away from the gizmo games that kids sit doing for hours at a time. These objects kill imagination. They rob children of getting outside and breathing air and looking around them. True creativity is not on their menus. When you make up your own stories, you are nurturing the imagination and encouraging confidence in making up stories that you alone create, not ones that come from books or little gizmos in a hand or that you find on a screen. Clouds are the perfect places to let the imagination soar. The shapes change and no one can possibly stick to one solid plot. The tales are  fluid and fun and fanciful. Try it with you grandchildren when they feel cranky or tired or sad or angry. They will calm down looking at the sky. The sky is patient and beautiful and it has no rules or guidelines. The sky is free. It waits.

No,The World Isn't

 There is a general fungus these days that has spread throughout the planet, particularly in the most "civilized" parts. Having achieved most of its ideals and wants and needs, the "other" parts of the world want it, too. And why not? What the posh have, is there for everyone to view on the technical gizmos that even the poorest of the poor seem to own. We humans love to dream that if we want something we can have it. We are told this over and over again by people who don't know it's a lie. Or perhaps a fairy tale. It is highly unlikely that achieving your idealistic goals is going always to happen. But to keep on trying is the key to happiness. As they say, going there is half the fun. Getting there is a goal and if you do "get there" the reward is helping others to make it, as well. It's lonely at the top. But platitudes don't help much. No, the world is not in worse shape any more that it ever has been. It's in the shape of a world that constantly changes over the ages, and for some reason, lately, everyone sees it clearly via their electronics. What you see isn't always what IS. A camera, in whatever form, can't envelope an entire environment. The camera or view or viewpoint today is narrow and manipulated in various ways that are mostly economic at the core. Money and all that it brings, good and bad, rules, but it is like a sponge. It tries to suck you in, but that's up to you. You aren't a blob of jelly to be absorbed into what you don't want. We don't want stress, we don't want the worries of the world and we have the power to decided what we should hear and see and how we should react and behave about it all. There is an OFF button. Take what you see and hear, into doses that work for you. If they are small ones or big ones you can handle, fine. Learn to look beyond and behind and around what is plunked in front of  you, largely by the media. The Media isn't always the enemy. The Media can be turned off if you have the courage and determination to realize, you are the one with the power. Don't necessarily accept what is shoved in front of you. Consider.  You have to screen it and decide about it and analyse it to see if it can or shall be yours - or not. Today's scammers are everywhere, and they will try to convince us all to go the way they say is best for us. But hey, we are much wiser than that. We have the power. We do the selection when it comes to our own lives and thus, we survive. We know how much is too much when it comes to fashion in any aspect of anything that we are involved with. We don't need someone to tell us how to think or feel or look or spend. What we need is  to consider, to weigh, to compare, to learn the value to ourselves and those we love. Those we love have their measures. also. of what works for them. It is time to look at the parts of the world that are good and beautiful and satisfying and lasting and of worth. It's out there for us to find. Think first. 

Pork 'n Beans

 Having been a boater half a life ago, makes me appreciate a tin of pork and beans. I can't tell you how many times at sea, I've sat in the back of a moving boat, spooning from a tin of P and B.  In a pinch, even canned potato salad, but that's a horror story. Beans are a good source of protein. The cans say "pork" and beans, but other than a piece of fat here and there, you won't find much in the way of meat protein.. If you want a casserole that costs almost nothing but tastes great, you could try this one that kids love. Chop one inch chunks of weiners, into a  pot of P and B,  to it tinned pineapple chunks and maybe some chopped onion previously sauteed. Add some maple syrup for flavour and the only trouble you'll have putting this on the table, is keeping the popular pot filled.  It's also practical and who doesn't think about that these days. You don't need a lot of pineapple, just a few chunks here and there. Save the rest in the freezer for the next casserole. I would suggest fresh pineapple but it's sky high. Anyway, when I slice pineapple, most of it is throwaway, something I feel guilty about.  Another option for P and B is to make a fake chili. I use a small hot pot. I toss in ground round raw, chopped sweet onions, peppers and celery, a tin or two of P and B,  and of course Frank's sweet hot chili to your taste preference. I keep the chopped veggies  in a big jar in the freezer for easy access.  Add corn kernels and some brown sugar and wowie, after they cook and blend, it's a great dish that is nutritious, easy and inexpensive. If you don't eat meat, try a tin of drained mussels as a substitute. They have great texture and taste just right.  Chicken chili isn't bad either. P and B soup is good, too. There is nothing wrong with making bean soup by mashing up the beans, adding water or chicken stock, some of the green onions from the ones standing in water beside the sink and maybe a bit more sugar and some herbs. Now, I've added garlic to my indoor garden. When the bulb of garlic is separated and each of the little cloves is pulled outward and are clipped at the top, they produce, after a time, lovely green stems of flavour, that can be added to your green onion clippings. Dry them along with the clipped green onions for later as well. they're lovely, sprinkled on buttered toast with a drift of nice salt. You can companion it  with your bean soup. And don't forget how easy it is, to teach your kids how to make their own hot dog buns. Here's how. In a big bowl pour one and one eighths (fraction lesson for the kids) cup of water, three tablespoons of sugar, two tablespoons of yeast and let it sit and grow. When it has done that, toss in a stirred up egg, one third cup of oil, three and one third cups of flour, one teaspoon of salt and start mixing into a sticky dough. Oil your hands first if you don't like sticky. If you were smart enough to get a bread maker (not for baking but mixing) do it on the "dough" mark. The dough should be soft and sticky and that's good. Let it  rise somewhere cosy until it is double in size. Take it out and roll it and push it  to get the bubbles out and then form it into hot dog bun shapes. Lay these side by side on your cookie sheet, almost, but not quite touching. Let them rise up once again and then put into a 375 degree  F oven for twenty minutes. Oo la la!