Don't cry for me, Argentina

My saltless hell continues apace, but the good news(es) is that it's only for nine more days, and that for three of those nine days I'll be in the hospital and won't be cooking for myself.  Victoire!

Also, I made more bagels and they are waaaaaaaaaaay more bagelly-looking than the first batch.

Although one of them deflated.

And then they went moldy but I was kind of sick of them anyways.  But, BUT!  I made pitas.  Pitas = moderately more difficult than bagels, but easier to fill with things, so it evens out.

Also, they will make tastier chips when the inevitable day comes where I never want to see their faces again.

I pita the fool that doesn't enjoy a fine avocado pita from time to time.

They are so fresh, you will want to slap them.

I am a happy clam, jokesters.

In other hijinks, I went mainlanding this weekend and we bought my sister a frock to get hitched in.  It is the fabricky equivalent of her spunkiness.