The mere fact that I was happy to go back to work should tell you how the weekend went. Friday was supposed to be a day where I got lots and lots done, and had plenty of time to prepare the meal for Girls' Night Dinner. The best laid plans....
I did get to pick peaches early that morning with Melanie, who is going through a very rough patch getting her husband through the morass of the medical institution. What an eye-opener. I tell you what - if I ever face hospitalization or any medical emergency, I want Melanie in my corner. She is fierce. She is relentless. She is an amazing force for the care of those she loves.
Then I dropped something off with Kay's husband and the half-hour visit morphed to two hours. It has been, is and will be rough for him. And all of us.
Then I had to get home and whip my dirty house into shape, along with putting together the complex meal I had planned. That's what I get for being a show-off. Many moons ago, in one of my earlier former lives, I was quite the gourmet cook. If the process was French and complicated - I was all over it! I discovered Ballotine of Chicken and there was no looking back. Of course, I was younger and had more time and energy back then. Fast forward to now, and I have less energy and if my time was any tighter it would be a girdle. Luckily, I still have my special little poultry knife and the original diagrams. So I (none too) quickly boned a whole roasting chicken (9+lbs) into one whole fillet, which was then stuffed with ricotta, chard, onions, fresh sage, and an egg for binding. This is then rolled up, tied and roasted, basted with butter. My original recipe calls for a 'mousse' made with pureed chicken breast, seasonings and an egg for binding; then pistachios and strips of ham are placed in it, it's rolled, tied and roasted - creating a lovely geometric pattern when sliced. I opted for the fast, slow food option.
Dinner was great - then I was up and at 'em to get dinner ingredients together to tote up for my dad's 91st birthday celebration with a few close friends and family. Then back home. Then up and at 'em Sunday to reclean the house and get dinner together for my parents and aunt, who were coming down to see the farm. Then I collapsed.
There were a few high points this weekend: my dryer died. Hallelujah! The Ameracauna chicks went into their coop by themselves! Halle-hotdamn-lujah!!!
As for the dead dryer celebration, I have had this dryer since I moved in. I got it on freecycle and it has run without a hitch for almost 8 years. I can't complain. But I don't WANT a dryer. I hang my clothes out three out of four seasons, with an occasional hang-out during winter if I can. The rest of the time I use my drying racks. And I happen to like crunchy towels. So there. This means I can pull the dryer out and give it to a neighbor for scrap, then put shelves up in its place. A much better use of the space.
And, as any true homesteader can tell you, having even one step taken out of your evening chores is cause for celebration. For over two weeks, I have had to go out every night and catch the four Ameracaunas and toss them into their coop. Every stinkin night. Last night, I sighed and grabbed my butterfly net and trudged out. They were in! Woot! Now, if the turkeys would just take the hint.