Probably normal people do not have 2.5 cabbages in their refrigerators for no particular reason. But we just ran out of kraut so…
and with extreme muscle power (and salt) …
I’d like to see you do THAT, Jillian Michaels.
Last July I dutifully packed up roughly a shit-ton of peaches and put them in the freezer to enjoy in the depths of bitter cold winter.
I did not expect the depths of bitter cold winter to extend into April. This weather is beastly and I consider Peach Cobbler to be a suitable weapon against said beast. Recipe courtesy of Epicurious, with slight adaptations: I accidentally threw in 3x the amount of boiling water I should have so I added an extra handful of flour and a shake of baking powder to compensate. Do not try this at home.
Now I’m going to go pick up the cedar for the raised beds, and imagine that it’s 70 degrees and sunny. If I’m feeling really desperate I will pick up some vanilla ice cream to go with the cobbler as I intend to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner til it’s gone, and that way it will be a complete meal 🙂
I’ve got a canner load of dried beans goin’ on here. Trying a no-cook method (well-other than the 75 minutes in the pressure cooker) because they have been too mushy lately. Mushy is good for bean dip, but not for anything else. Fingers crossed they are firm and I don’t blow up the house.
There was crazy-ass hail and a tornado near Yinzerville yesterday. I’m readying our household for the apocalypse. And what good is impending doom without muffins? None, I say.
A 5 minute attempt to define open projects and relevant completion objectives, because that’s what being an anal retentive procrastinator is all about:
- Finish spring sweater before fall. Or edit pattern to include turtleneck.
- Fix paver steps to the garden and chickens. Would be easier if crazy rain hadn’t turned them into a waterfall. Actually, a waterfall would be nice….
- Build raised beds for the garden. Source magical soil and mulch from renewable resources. Remember that we don’t have a truck anymore.
- Buy truck. Convert to veggie oil to avoid guilt for buying truck.
- Actually do yoga instead of thinking about yoga.
- Fix front stained glass window. The tape is too trashy for words.
- Make better bread. Less rock-like. But then what would the chickens eat? Grow grain in raised beds.
- Finish kitchen reno project.
- Start seeds. Find all the stuff needed to start seeds. Basement. Crap.
- Clean the basement.
- Build walls around new furnace and duct work. 3 years ago.
- Add insulation to roof. Screw the walls.
- Close hole in third floor ceiling. Or put in fold -stairs. Or a whole house fan.
- Wash two of the chicken’s butts. But only two.
- Finish reading the four books I have started before starting another.
- Paint third floor floors with lead encapsulating paint. Then lick floors.
- Rebuild front planter before it completely rots and sends children to ER.
- Can dried beans. Because I can.
- Take giant load of stuff to Goodwill enabling use of dining room table. Then do giant jigsaw puzzle that doesn’t actually fit on table.
- Get new table.
- Refinish first floor floors. Or get new floors. Or move.
- Install third floor light fixtures. Find third floor light fixtures. Probable location: basement.
- Oh crap – the basement. Dammit.
It’s a little thing, a mug of hot chocolate. The way I make it, it’s just milk, cocoa, and honey. And these crazy mugs.
They were in my house growing up and my boy is obsessed with them because they are an artifact from my past – hot chocolate can be served no other way. He tells me every time we make hot chocolate and pour it into a mug “I promise, I will never break one of these mugs because I know they are very special to you.”
The funny thing is…they really aren’t. They’re just one of those things that seems to follow you around in your life whether you like it or not. But I love the connection the boy feels he has to my childhood because of these mugs.
And oh yeah, they’re really beer steins.