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Archive for the ‘ Cooking ’ Category


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My List to get rich quick. My attempt to make a stab at my own little version of the gross national debt.  And I DO mean gross.

  • put the horse trough on Craig’s List for $50.00.  Check- (SOLD)
  • put the saddle on Craig’s List for, ummm, $200.00?…. $300.00? (Will do as soon as Keelan gets home and cleans it up. *note to self, tell John to bring home saddle soap*
  • investigate the cost of saddles.
  • put Kes’s text books and a few others on Amazon to sell.  7 of them.  Check- (SOLD…some of them)
  • put a bunch of my McCoy pottery pieces on Ebay.  Check- (bidding ends late tomorrow, prepare to be rich, less poor.

I cannot freaking believe that Kes just came in and told me that she was looking at her courses on line and she has a biology 2 class, (or some such shit) that is requiring the exact same book that we just sold for $80.00.

AAAARRRG!  WHY, OH WHY IS MY GET RICH (quick, deadly slow, whatever), SCHEME BACKFIRING?

On the bright side, I have scarred Keelan for life… mentally, that is.  During the Christmas meal preparation, she wandered into the kitchen and gazed longingly at the turkey that I had recently pulled out of the oven.  I thought I’d mess with her a little bit and I gestured to the perfectly round, neat little 22 caliber sized hole in the breast of the bird where I had recently pulled out the pop up button thing that tells you when it is sufficiently done on the inside.

I said, “Oh, look… that’s where they shot it.”

Her eye’s got huge and I swear her face turned white as she stared at that turkey that she must have been sure had died a natural death of “want-to-contribute-to-our-holiday-meal”.   Everyone started laughing and she blushed.  Sometimes she is sooooo sweet.

And then there are the other times…


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Well, it’s all over and I am glad that life is going back to semi-normal.  John is back at work and that store is TORE UP.  At least it was when we had to go up there twice yesterday to check on it.

That’s how weird his employer’s are.  This is a huge national chain that, for the most part has all their stores staying open 24/7.  They close at 4:00pm on Thanksgiving day and are closed on Christmas day.

And that’s it.

They apparently don’t remember what it’s like to just close every night like regular folk do and are completely freaked out paranoid at the thought of any of their stores being left uninhabited for an entire day and night.  So all the stores have to have a manager go up there twice during the day of Christmas and walk through the entire thing, checking all the coolers to see if for some bizarre reason they have stopped working and go through all the bathrooms and backrooms and storage closets and walk-in freezers and coolers and behind all the counters of this 88,000 sq. ft. store looking for… I don’t know what.  It’s ridiculous.

Did I mention they’re paranoid?

He’s gotten it all back in shape by now and he’s off tomorrow, so… YEAAA!

Yesterday was a success.  I decided that I was scaling back a lot and not breaking out every single specialty  Kes and I could whip out.  Turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, rolls, pumpkin pie (1), dressing, gravy, and I think that’s it. It was bare minimum.

On Christmas Eve I finally heard from SIL late in the day and I asked her to bring the green vegetables.  She told me that H had asked her to make a roast the day before and she was going to bring that, too.

OK, fine.

She showed up and had a piece of meat that she later admitted having got at some Mexican meat market and she had no idea what cut it was, but it was NOT a roast.  Tough. As. Shoe. Leather.

She also just said, “I didn’t bring the vegetables.”

That was the only thing I asked her for.

We had her, and her “friend” that she didn’t tell me was coming, her 4 grown kids, along with one of the kids boyfriend, (also didn’t know was coming), and her two grandkids.   So an extra 11 people for supper.

It was interesting.

Anyway, things went along fairly well and it was all over almost as soon as it had begun.  The two nieces of John’s that have 5 and 6 kids a piece didn’t call or show, (thank you God), so it could have been much worse and much more crowded.

Last night we were taking bets on how the “roast” was going to affect H’s “delicate digestive system”.  She went with indigestion and saying that “…it was that roast…it was greasy… she should have boiled it longer.”  There was nothing greasy about that dried up hunk of ass meat.  But I won’t be telling Henrietta that.   Some nasty stuff, that. 😉

Ho Ho Humm


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I don’t know what to do next.  Holiday decorating is going… well, slowly.  *sigh*  Just can’t seem to get in the spirit of things…  My whole house seems to smell of poop and sadness.    Well, maybe that’s just my take on things, cause nobody else has mentioned it.  No.  Do NOT call the health department.  Really.  STEP AWAY FROM THE PHONE.

The tree is up and it’s one of those pre-lit ones that looks wonderful when the lights actually WORK on it.  Last year, (only the third year we had it), the entire middle section didn’t light up.  So I just piled on more lights and it looked OK.  For some reason I was expecting it to work this year when I plugged it in.  No.  It hates me.  It’s been talking to those elitist live bushes in the front yard that are (still) pissed off about the snow.

I DID, however, come across this most excellent recipe for a holiday… favorite(?) that I am willing to share with you all.  You may have seen it before… but it’s worth a re-read.

World’s Greatest Fruitcake

1c water

1c sugar

4 large eggs

2 c dried fruit

1 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

1c brown sugar

Lemon juice

nuts

1 bottle of whiskey

This is very easy to make and awesomely delicious, especially for the tiny amount of trouble.  Assemble all ingredients and be sure you have enough counter space.

Sample the whiskey to check for quality.  Grab a large bowl.  To be sure the whiskey is of highest quality, pour one cup and drink.

Repeat process.

Turn on electric mixer, beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.  Add one tsp. sugar and 1 cup baking soda and give it a beating.  Check the whiskey and turn off the mix machine thingy.  Add two whole eggs to the bowl and chuck in the dried fruit.  Mix on the turner.  When the fruit gets stuck in the beaters pry ’em loose with a drewscriver.

Check whiskey once more for tonsisticity.  Shtir in two cups of salt.  Or something white.  Pour another cup of whiskey, use both hands so you don’t spill.  Sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.  Add one table.  Spoon.  Of sugar or whatever you have handy.

Grease the oven.  Turn the cake tin to 350 degrees.  Don’t forget to time the setter.  Aw, heck save time and put it where it would end up anyway: in the garbage.  Except the whiskey.  Finish the whiskey and crawl to bed.

Now, see.  Wasn’t that a simple recipe?  I believe I’ve made it before, but for some reason the whole episode seems kinda foggy to me…

Merry Christmas, everybody!

Who's the turkey now? OK, ham?


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Hello gang!

I would like to report that on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, my SIL called me and said that she had gotten the ham she had agreed to bring and it was a nice big spiral cut.  She made a point of saying that it was already cooked and mentioned it a couple of times.  Ok, great.  I’ve gotten spiral cut hams before and yes, that’s the way they come.  Cooked.

I guess I wasn’t too worried since I was doing a huge turkey and I was sure there was going to be enough for everyone.

The following morning, Thanksgiving Day, she called to say that she was going to bring it over to my house to heat up.  OK, fine.  She then told me that she was going over to her ex-husbands house for a meal at noon with her kids since we were going to eat in the evening when John got home.  I told her to be sure and bring a pan to heat the ham in since all my sheet cake pans were being used for cakes and casseroles and what not.  She said she’d buy one and I told her not to bother, I’d wash it, just use a pan from her house.  She told me that she doesn’t own a sheet cake pan, or any other pan other than a skillet and pot.

She is 55 years old.  How can this be?

It gets better.  I asked her what time she was coming over and she indicated not until shortly before we were going to eat.  I told her the ham would have to heat for longer than that and asked her to read the directions on it.  She insisted that the ham only needed about 20 minutes to heat and went over to it and told me it was 10 lbs, would only require about 20 minutes to heat.

I said “Millie, read the directions to me.”

Millie: deep sigh, “Heat for 15 minutes per pound…  hum…”

“That’s two and a half hours, Millie.”

She said she’d take care of it and I assumed she was going to heat it at her ex-husband’s house, at least partially.  No.  She showed up with a cold ham and we hacked off a bunch of slices, put them in the microwave with a little bit of water and heated them up.  It worked out fine, but, man! how could anyone grow to be 55 years old and know so little about something so simple?

And the question of the day is, what made her so sure it only took 20 minutes to heat the ten pound ham?

Desperate meme.


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Well, I am pulling out all the stops.  I have, in fact, NOT been memed.  I am stealing it anyway.  Dear Ree over at Hotfessional did a meme today that I NEED to do just to have something to say.  While she did not meme me, she did not meme anybody.  She’s spreading the love anyway, cause I’m taking it.

It’s a random thoughts Meme and she got it from Marylin at A Little Space For Me.

So here goes!

  • Word for the week in my head…

Emotion.  Keelan is being so emotional and, consequently, making everyone else emotional. There’s no escaping it.

  • Thoughts for the week in my head…

I hope, for all our sakes, that this medication works or one of us will surely die.

  • Thing for the week in my life…

Henrietta wants to wear bras now and I’ve got to go out somewhere, sometime and find her some.  32 A bras.  Not because she is worried about anything sagging, her boobs are now getting irritated by the tops of her diapers.  No.  I know what you’re thinking.  Her A cup boobs are not hanging that far.  Her spine has deteriorated so far that her torso is the length of a four year old’s.  Literally.

  • Song for the week in my head… For days now Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad by Meatloaf has been in my head and I CAN NOT make it stop!
  • Food for the week in my belly…

Chicken and dumplings.  Made a huge pot of it tonight and it is soooo good.  I will have to give up my recipe here soon.

  • Color for the week in my life…

No idea.  What the hell does that mean?

  • Smile for the week on my face…

John doesn’t have to drive to and from Pearland everyday!  Hooray!

  • Blessing for the week in my heart…

That John is driving to and from work here close by and has work to drive to, period.

Free toes everybody!


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