Well, about that luck: definitely lacking. An hour before dinnertime I got out what I thought was cornmeal and everything else I needed to make cornbread and gravy. Imagine my horror when I discovered that I had cornstarch instead of cornmeal. Darn foreign labels. Not to be thwarted, I decided to make biscuits and gravy instead. There was a solitary lump of butter left in the fridge. 5 Tablespoons-worth? I hoped so. I guessed my way through the recipe. When I added the buttermilk, however, I found that I had a very soupy mixture that was very different from the doughy mixture I was supposed to be able to knead and roll out. It was at this point that I remembered that I had walked under a ladder that morning on the way to school and that Julia warned me of the bad-luck consequences. I almost threw out the whole thing and got out the bread for gravy sandwiches at that point, but I decided to try adding more flour to see if I could get it to thicken up. Once I’d done that, prevented the dough from cementing itself to the counter, and squished all the round hopefully-biscuits into a pie pan, I realized I hadn’t turned the oven on yet. I got the gravy safely underway and checked the oven to see if it was ready…and discovered I had put it on the wrong setting. Thus, dinner was a little later than hoped for. I was rather frazzled. BUT by the grace of God (power of prayer!) my biscuits turned out quite edible! Not the same quality as Mom’s, but enjoyable and recognizably biscuits. Julia even had seconds. And Marianne asked what was in them, and raised an eyebrow when I explained using sour milk for a buttermilk substitute. I was very very content and relieved. And leery of ladders.