For No Discernible Reason

I woke up (or was awakened by Emily, who insisted that 7:15 on a Sunday morning was the only possible time for a dog to be squeezed, thank you) and after attending to Her Nibs The Canine, made a lemon tart.

There is no reason for me to have done so. Danny's out of town; it's just me and the dog, and the dog doesn't get lemon tart regardless of how she feels about the matter. And I dont need a whole lemon tart, regardless of how I feel about the matter. I suspect I will donate some to local friends.

But you see, it's all desperance's fault, because he mentioned a kind of tart pastry I had never heard of (flour added to butter and water and oil that have been browned in the oven) and I had to try it. For what it's worth, it seems to have turned out just beautifully.  And once you have a tart shell, you must fill it with something, and I'd been sort of thinking of lemon tarts for a while. Voile, as my fibrist friends say.

It is now cooling atop the stove, thinking obscure tart-like thoughts.  And I have lemon tart. For no discernible reason.

And it's not even 10 am yet. What on earth is up with that? I blame the dog.