I am going to write at least one letter to one agent this weekend. Maybe I'll try and write a few. Why not? They can all say basically the same thing. If I never write any letters, I'll never get an agent. I just thought maybe an agent would fall into my lap the way a publisher fell into my lap, but that doesn't look like it's going to happen. Yeah, I'm a little unrealistic sometimes. Maybe it's a writerly sort of problem to have! I'm fictionally inclined.

So. . . . uh. . . . how about a recipe?

Somebody on NPR this weekend was tellihg a caller to try strained yogurt with hot pepper, cucumber, garlic, and (I think) mint. I was going to try it. I have mint growing outside. I bought the other ingredients but then I was so busy with making chicken and potatoes that all I managed to do was strain the yogurt--which everyone ate up pretty quickly once they realized how nice and thick and yummy it was. Now I want to try straining maple yogurt to see if it turns out yummy or if all the flavor just drains out. . . .

I always love to put yogurt on my potatoes instead of sour cream. It's really good with scallions and raw garlic. I love fresh garlic and chevre on crackers, too. I will eat raw garlic that way until my mouth burns. I'm just a garlic masochist or something. (Am I hungry right now, or what? I don't know, but I'm just going to go to bed whether I am feeling snacky or not b/c I already brushed my teeth.)

Now here is a lady I'm been meaning to read for eons and never do. Maybe because Anna Karenina is about 500 pages long and I'll be reading that for the rest of my life. Looks like Ruth is making autumny dishes, too. (I also made an apple crisp this weekend, but as usual, because I got distracted from vigilant oversight, it became "apple mush".) Still delish though.