Fact: It is unwise to try to hold your drill, screws, two large parts together, then decide to brace up one of those parts without divesting yourself of one of the other objects. (Bruise on foot caused by dropping drill not pictured. You're welcome.)
Fact: You will regret speed shopping.
Fact: Chefs from fancy restaurants create recipes that involve many, many pots, pans, utensils, and ingredients because they don't have to clean up after themselves.
Fact: Blatant Pollyannaism will come back to bite you on your butt. Big time.
I started this weekend on a full-steam-ahead theme - if, for nothing else, to divert me from all the crap that is going on. More on that later (see last fact). I was going to TRY NEW THINGS. Ergo:
|Why is it my menu list is in |
all capitals, while my shopping list is in
initial caps with lowercase?
Granted, the bagels are not new - they are a weekly staple - but everything else was new to me. There was a new twist on the bagels, however. Whilst going through the supermarket a just under the speed of light - having to squeeze it in between leaving home and arriving a work on time - I failed to notice that I had plucked vanilla flavored Greek yogurt from the plain yogurt slot because, you know, it was too much trouble for the previous shopper to put it back where it came from. I did manage to squeeze out almost enough from my own yogurt, but had to make up the difference by about a third of a cup. You could tell.
I had picked up a used cookbook entitled "The Greens", thinking it was a cookbook about GREENS - kale, chard, spinach. When I finally cracked it open, I realized it was about a vegetarian restaurant of some renown (not renown to me, however). There were quite a few recipes that piqued my interest, so I pulled up my BGPs and forged ahead. After about 10 minutes, it became clear that, while obviously a talented cook, he was not one to take any shortcuts. No pan should remain clean, no cooking utensil unused. Gritting my teeth, I decided to inject myself into the recipe, so shortcuts were used (didn't have two days to soak and cook beans in a "special' broth) and I will say that everything I made was tasty. But I was washing dishes almost the whole weekend.
|Eggplant gratin - with canned white|
beans (mine), not bathed in special
The pear crisp came about out of self-defense. My pear tree, sweet old girl, is absolutely covered in pears! This is the first time in 13 years under my limited care that she has produced more than four pears. We got a good, hard wind a couple of times last week, and there were quite a bit of them scattered about. I did a little research and found a promising recipe for gluten free pear crisp. It was/is delicious!
If you have been keeping track, you will notice that there is no mention of the Pumpkin Scones. There is a reason for that - I still have to make pumpkin SCONES. What I made was Irish Pumpkin Soda Bread Scones. Sigh. After slipping them into the oven, I started to put away the ingredients and found - to my horror - that I had made them with 2.5 teaspoons of baking SODA, not the baking powder required. I baked them - they were quite puffy...snort -- and cooled them and added the maple glaze. Then I trotted them to the barn and confessed. They were all eaten, which is a reminder that I should not try and pat myself on my back for my baking prowess, as these guys will eat anything with a glaze on it.
|Clear as mud|
|but, but... I love it!|
On a bright note, I hung my stained glass sun in the window - it makes me smile every time I look at it - even at night!
Now, for the Pollyannaism reference. As you all know from following me these..eight years...good grief...I tend toward the positive at all times. No matter what. I have found that it has served me well because you feel a whole lot better if you take the time to find the positive in any dire situation. I had been reflecting, not so long ago, at how lucky I was to be working with the two other people in my office because we were all low-key and had formed a little tribe. Well, I was wrong. In a big way. The day after Labor Day, I was informed by the head of this little tribe that she had quit and was taking #2 tribe member with her. In other words, I had been kicked to the curb. After 20 years in this job (through two mergers and countless idiots), the end is near. The prospect of having to work up a resume, schlep my sorry ass out to interviews, where I would have to convince people that, even though I had a plan to retire in two years, I would be worth the investment. To make things even more angsty (if that is not a word, it should be), this is what I've heard from HQ *insert crickets* so I have no idea when, where or what. I am like my dogs - I need the sturdy underpinnings of routine to make my world right.
It seems, however, that this Pollyannaism has become an integral part of my DNA. I keep interjecting moments of pure, happy power that a CHANGE IS COMING, HURRAY!!! This tends to dip into hand-wringing. So, fasten your seatbelts. I am.