Today's subject line comes from People, Look East, my favorite Advent hymn. I'm dressed in purple (the chamber choir is aiming to replicate the look of an Advent candle wreath. The expression on the music director's face as two of the women discussed shades of pink in mind-blowing detail was priceless, and I dreamed about today's service a few hours ago).

I was skimming through Her Nashville over breakfast, and a column by Margie Maddux Newman caught my eye, because she quoted Jon Carroll. Specifically this passage (from This I Believe:

Failure is how we learn. I have been told of an African phrase describing a good cook as "she who has broken many pots." If you've spent enough time in the kitchen to have broken a lot of pots, probably you know a fair amount about cooking. I once had a late dinner with a group of chefs, and they spent time comparing knife wounds and burn scars. They knew how much credibility their failures gave them.

This reminds me of a feature I saw on the NYT Op-Ed page a month or so ago: Choice Cuts.

I managed (for a change) not to burn or stab myself last week, but I do have to scrub down the counter by the stove later today: it has a stubborn film of grease all over it, thanks to the bag of basil-and-oil I left on it to defrost without the usual leak-catching plate underneath. On the one hand, grrrr. On the other hand, it was lovely to remember preparing the basil (a gift from a friend) back in August, and to have it at hand when I needed it for the panzanella for Friday's Room in the Inn supper.