Archive for December, 2009

Oh Boy, I Love Christmas!!!

I love Christmas.  I really do.  What I really don’t care for though, is all the hassle and stress that comes with it.  We bring this on ourselves!  Or I do on myself anyway.

I went home last night determined to make cookies and banana nut bread.  First I must fix supper.  Hubby has been really great lately about fixing the meals while I’ve been painting like a crazed woman on bottle gourds he grew this past summer.  They finally dried enough to clean up, clean out, soak in copper sulphate, dry again, and get painted.  I worked all weekend on them.  But I’ve not made any cookies or goodies.  I hate to ask him to cook again. 

I absolutely suck at multi-tasking in the kitchen.  I mean it.  It is one thing at a time with me and I want the area halfway cleaned up before I begin my next project.  I won’t even tell you how the supper turned out because I cooked it in a really big hurry – it involved hamburger meat, sweet potatoes and frozen peas.  And buddy by God I said to them, you’d all better hurry up and be ready at the same time!  Because meanwhile, I’m over at the other counter mixing up the bread mix. 

I bought ten adorable little ceramic loaf pans at Michael’s for $1 each!!!  So cute, so Christmasy!  I pulled them lovingly from their bag and placed them on the counter, all lined up pretty ready to be washed.  Oh wait, need to remove the price tags from INSIDE the little dishes, not from the bottom, but the inside!  Where the food sits!  Huh?  Why there?

If I could get my hands around the neck of the blankety blank idiot that stuck the price tag on the inside of the dish with superglue, I would choke him.  (you know it’s a HIM, of course).   I smeared mayonnaise on the tags.  They are big tags too, about two inches, I swear.  Waited a bit.  Tested.  Nothing.  Smeared oil on them- waited – tested.  No moving these tags.  It took the edge of a spoon and all the elbow grease I could muster to get the price tags off the bottom of those dishes.  AND it took over 30 minutes to clean all of them up to use!  I am not kidding.  AND it pissed me off badly.  My patience level is shakey anyway, you know?

Meanwhile, over at the stove, the hamburgers are burning.  Hubby comes in and makes the mistake of saying, “I’m hungry!”  He looks at me and what I’m doing, apparently reads the look of love on my face, finishes the supper stuff, and takes his plate into the living room to eat.  Bless him.  Of course, he doesn’t clean anything up afterwards, but whatever.

I like chopped walnuts in my banana bread.  I look in the cupboards for 10 minutes trying to find my handy-dander chopper.  Finally think I remember it breaking last year.  On purpose?  Or, maybe it has joined the glass lid in the depths of hell somewhere, I don’t know, I couldn’t find it.  Damn!!  So I put the walnuts in a baggie and pound the pure-d crap out of them with my rolling pin.  What is a very simple recipe has turned into a nightmare for me.  I’ve been at this for an hour now and haven’t even started the cookies and the bread takes 45 minutes to bake!  I finally get the batter poured into the dishes and get them into the stove.  The bread loaves are for the guys at work, I need six of them.

I clean up the kitchen, start a load of clothes, finish painting a gourd, take the dog for a walk and check on the bread and it’s doing fine.  Phone rings, my friend Mona and I get into a funny conversation about the past and are wildly laughing like hyenas when it hits me about the bread.  I scream Goodbye to her and run back into the house and pull them out of the oven and they are almost, almost burned.  Almost.  Not quite.  Not if you squint your eyes and look sideways.  They will do. 

I decide the guys will not get my precious little dishes and after they’ve cooled I take them out of the dishes and wrap them in plastic wrap.  I brought them in this morning and I see they’ve all eaten part of them and not died. 

I’m so grateful. 

Now I must start on my Christmas cards.  This ought to be fun too!

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Trashcan Diving

Last night I had to go trashcan diving.  Now granted, it was our own trashcan, but it was still not what you’d call fun.  Worse yet, I did it twice. 

I am missing the glass top to a wonderful little ceramic pot that I use to make my tea.  It cost me a gracious plenty along with its set mates at a Princess House party I went to several years ago.  My niece gave the party and I really loved this cookware set because the handles are removable and you can go store them easily.  They have other great features too.

Anyway, I’ve lost the lid to my favorite one.  I made tea Saturday night in it while I was fixing turkey pot pie from the thank-you-Jesus-they’re-gone leftovers.  I had a few drinks along with it.   We watched the poor Gators get pretty well stomped by Alabama.  They deserved a few more drinks from me.  I made one too many phone calls that night, LOL.  We won’t go there but trust me, if I call you when I’ve had a few, just hang up on me, okay?

I get up Sunday and notice the tea bag on the back of the sink, no tea made, the pot in the sink, but no lid.  I wasn’t concerned at the moment.  Sunday came and went and while doing the supper dishes, I started seriously looking for the lid.  I could not find it anywhere.  I SEARCHED for 30 minutes.  Woke the hubby up and explained it to him.  He gets up and starts looking for it.  I resign myself to trash detail and pull on my warm clothes, dress my feet, and tromp down to get the big can from down by the road.  I look thru the bags on top and do not find it.  I figured this had just happened this weekend, right?  No need to go through the whole weeks worth of trash!  I take it back to the road, go back in the house, remove the heavy clothing and continue my search.

We searched some more and still no lid.  I am frustrated and suggest we just quit, it’ll turn up eventually, I know it’s not in the trash, and try and go about my business.  But the whole time my mind is churning trying to remember the last time I saw that lid.  Maybe it was before the weekend, maybe it really could be in the older trash in the bottom of that big, deep, dark, dank, nasty trashcan.  I pull my warm clothes back on, put on my sneakers again.  I go back and get the trashcan and pull it around to the back and turn on the bright lights and pull on my trusty rubber gloves.  THIS time I open and DIG through every darn bag in there and I still do not find my glass lid.  I was just so SURE, you know?   I did give up this time and I went in and took a shower after that nasty ordeal.  All of this was reminding me of other dumb things I’ve done.  Like put the bowl of tuna fish salad in the cupboard instead of the frig, then discover it a few weeks later.  Or wonder how the potholders got in the frig.  Or finding the dishcloth in the freezer.  I mean strange things happen around my house that I just can’t explain!

So there is a moral to this story but damned if I know what it is.

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Pearlie Girl

Our Little Girl

I know I’ve been lax in writing lately, and I’m trying to do better.  It’s a busy time of year both at home and at work.

I do have to write about this funny little creature we have in our home now.  I’ll make it short.

When I get home at the end of the work day, she is really glad to see me.  She has a way of standing on her back feet at the baby gate in the laundry room door and holding on with one paw.  Because her body is wiggling with pure delight at seeing me, it makes her other paw waggle back and forth, as if she’s waving.  But it’s the grin that gets you every time.  The fuzzy areas on either side of her nose will lift up, sort of squint her eyes, and produce the cutest grin you’ve ever seen on a dog.  Somehow I’ve got to get this on video.  We’re not the only ones who have seen it, she actually can smile.
She isn’t much of a barker – she makes a “woo-woo” noise when she is trying to say something to you.  Her little mouth just puckers into a perfect O and this little woo-woo-woo will come out that you can’t help but laugh at!
She loves me but she adores Tim. 
I usually get home before he does and after she’s over greeting me, the wait begins for him.  She will jump up on the couch and hang both paws over the arm and stare at the kitchen door.  When he gets home, the dance, the grin, the woo-woo starts all over, only it’s way more abundant.  He picks her up and she is the happiest little dog in the world.  The whole greeting time can last 10 minutes sometimes, she is just that excited to see us at the end of the day.
At night, she isn’t happy until we’re all in the bed together.  Tim has taught her this “sweet baby” paw movement.  She will rub both her ears with her paws over and over, being absolutely adorable, when he says, “Be a sweet baby.” 
Last night I took her into Home Depot in her little dog carrier.  Just popped her into the cart and off we went.  She doesn’t make any noise, just looks around at everyone and everything.  It is really nice to be able to take her with me. 
Our little Libbey was a wonderful dog for 17 years, but Rocksey Pearl has been a gift from Heaven for us.  It is just nice to have a dog with a good attitude.
LOL

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