I've been more thrown off by the time-change than usual. This morning at 4:30, Thomas woke up and started prowling the house, convinced that he had heard someone screaming. Later he conceded that this may have been a dream. However, because 4:30 is my body's 5:30, and 5:30 is the hideous time at which I'd been forcing myself awake for the last two months, I was up and totally unable to go back to sleep. Now I am tired, but it's Heroes night, so I must stay awake.
I walked with my sister tonight and she was telling me about this soup she ate. It was carrot, cashew and ginger soup, which to me sounds dreadful, but that's not the point. The point is that until 4 years ago, my sister did not eat vegetables. Like, at all. In fact, she ate great quantities of ground beef and pasta. I told her tonight that I wished I had a time machine, so I could go back and tell her younger self that one day she would eat carrot/cashew/ginger soup. There's no way she would believe me.
If I had a time machine, I don't think that there's anything about my life that I would go back to change, but I do wish I could tell myself things that would be useful later. For instance, living off credit cards for a year? Probably not a very good idea. And I wish I could have given myself the heads up about the diabetes thing a lot earlier. Mostly, though, I think I would just want to reassure myself. It will be ok. You will survive. Things will get better.
After a huge round of celebratory drinking on Saturday night, I was feeling quite at odds with myself. As I have previously documented, I don't seem to get hung over anymore (perhaps a good thing about getting older) I just get bone-tired and out of sorts. I always feel a kind of deep and horrible despair. I'm always convinced that I'm just the worst person and everyone hates me. I wandered the house all day not knowing quite what to do with myself. So finally, I just started writing. And damn, if I didn't feel better right away.
Novel 2, here I come.
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Monday, November 05, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
214
Is the lucky number of today. 214. More than twice the length of my master's thesis. Which took 3 years to write. This has taken 3 weeks. What is up with the universe?
This whole process is causing me to have to eat a lot of my words. I have always been seriously against the notion that stories come from some other universe that the writer somehow taps into and "channels" the characters onto the page. The whole, "Sorry Hannibal is so gross, but that's just what he did and I had to write it," school of thought. Are you a writer or are you some sort of clairvoyant?! I used to say.
Uh, some sort of clairvoyant it is.
This weekend, as I approached 200 pages, I got overexcited and forced a scene that wasn't totally together. I kind of knew it, and then I read a really interesting article about love stories, and how once the main characters are finally together, writers tend to lose their minds briefly, and everyone falls out of character and does insane stuff, or suddenly the writer forgets that sitting around thinking about feelings is not the same as having a plot.
So I thought about it, and I knew there was something not so excellent about this scene and I got up in the morning and rewrote it. And it still wasn't right. There were things I had liked about the original version and I was trying to preserve them which just wasn't going to happen. Kill your darlings, indeed. So on the third try it came out well, and took the story in a direction that I had hoped for but had not yet figure out how to do...so that was nice and put me back on track. I'm messing with some epistolary stuff now...
This is the most fun I've had in years.
In other news, I talked to my friend Jennifer this weekend and she reported that she is reading Wonderful Tonight, the Patty Boyd story. I asked her if I could borrow it when she was done, as I am a huge Beatles fan and very interested in some of her story and lots of her photography.
But the whole point of this story is that Jennifer always likes to tell me that she has read one book in her life and that it was Helter Skelter. Causing me to make lots of jokes about how once you've read Helter Skelter, you've read everything. Everything else is just a rehash. So it's kind of great that she's lending me a book. Even though I'm not reading right now, which is still really weird to me.
Furthermore, when I came home from walking tonight, stinky and dripping with sweat, I opened the door and smelled fire. I started to yell for Thomas, until I noticed that the fire in question was candles and that the dining room table was set with a tablecloth and flowers and wine and that Thomas had made me a lovely romantic dinner of lobster bisque, salad, steak, zucchini and shrimp. With strawberries for dessert. And everything matched and he used all our lovely dishes. And the flowers--they were bright red spider gerbers, and I couldn't have picked a better vase for them myself.
So all is well. And that is all until my next page update. :)
This whole process is causing me to have to eat a lot of my words. I have always been seriously against the notion that stories come from some other universe that the writer somehow taps into and "channels" the characters onto the page. The whole, "Sorry Hannibal is so gross, but that's just what he did and I had to write it," school of thought. Are you a writer or are you some sort of clairvoyant?! I used to say.
Uh, some sort of clairvoyant it is.
This weekend, as I approached 200 pages, I got overexcited and forced a scene that wasn't totally together. I kind of knew it, and then I read a really interesting article about love stories, and how once the main characters are finally together, writers tend to lose their minds briefly, and everyone falls out of character and does insane stuff, or suddenly the writer forgets that sitting around thinking about feelings is not the same as having a plot.
So I thought about it, and I knew there was something not so excellent about this scene and I got up in the morning and rewrote it. And it still wasn't right. There were things I had liked about the original version and I was trying to preserve them which just wasn't going to happen. Kill your darlings, indeed. So on the third try it came out well, and took the story in a direction that I had hoped for but had not yet figure out how to do...so that was nice and put me back on track. I'm messing with some epistolary stuff now...
This is the most fun I've had in years.
In other news, I talked to my friend Jennifer this weekend and she reported that she is reading Wonderful Tonight, the Patty Boyd story. I asked her if I could borrow it when she was done, as I am a huge Beatles fan and very interested in some of her story and lots of her photography.
But the whole point of this story is that Jennifer always likes to tell me that she has read one book in her life and that it was Helter Skelter. Causing me to make lots of jokes about how once you've read Helter Skelter, you've read everything. Everything else is just a rehash. So it's kind of great that she's lending me a book. Even though I'm not reading right now, which is still really weird to me.
Furthermore, when I came home from walking tonight, stinky and dripping with sweat, I opened the door and smelled fire. I started to yell for Thomas, until I noticed that the fire in question was candles and that the dining room table was set with a tablecloth and flowers and wine and that Thomas had made me a lovely romantic dinner of lobster bisque, salad, steak, zucchini and shrimp. With strawberries for dessert. And everything matched and he used all our lovely dishes. And the flowers--they were bright red spider gerbers, and I couldn't have picked a better vase for them myself.
So all is well. And that is all until my next page update. :)
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Venemous Tentacula
First, I'd like to interrupt this broadcaset to say that Luciano's Pizza Rules!! Much in the way that San Dimas High School Football does, but maybe even more so. Their pizza is BIGGER THAN MY STOVE and the crust doesn't get all hard and rubbery when it's reheated....ahh. heaven.
But then, just when I thought things were as good as they could get, pizza-wise, we called them last night at 10:15. They were already closed, so too bad for us. Until the owner volunteered his OWN PIZZA that he was cooking to take home and had it sent out to us. I love that man. If I could have baked him some cookies on the spot, I would have.
In other news, the first day of school is tomorrow. I've already started have nightmares about it. Apparently, no matter how many times you do it, the first day of school is always scary.
I'm very grateful for the rain we're getting this afternoon, however, and grateful to be sitting here mindlessly wasting time on the internet.
But then, just when I thought things were as good as they could get, pizza-wise, we called them last night at 10:15. They were already closed, so too bad for us. Until the owner volunteered his OWN PIZZA that he was cooking to take home and had it sent out to us. I love that man. If I could have baked him some cookies on the spot, I would have.
In other news, the first day of school is tomorrow. I've already started have nightmares about it. Apparently, no matter how many times you do it, the first day of school is always scary.
I'm very grateful for the rain we're getting this afternoon, however, and grateful to be sitting here mindlessly wasting time on the internet.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Couth
There is no better cure for cramps than coming home from work, seizing a cold and bunless hamburger from the refrigerator and eating it out of your hand.
Then you might find that there is no diet pepsi, which would be all the excuse you would need to eat the rest of a carton of ice cream from the freezer while staring mindlessly at the internet.
Not that I've ever done that.
Then you might find that there is no diet pepsi, which would be all the excuse you would need to eat the rest of a carton of ice cream from the freezer while staring mindlessly at the internet.
Not that I've ever done that.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Cram Carnage
Years ago, when I lived in Greensboro, there was a Chinese food restaurant that had a huge banner out front advertising "All You Can Eat Cram Legs!" What was hilarious to me about the sign was not just that it was misspelled, but that a banner-printing company had not pointed out to their customers that the word is crab, not cram, and that the restaurant just hung it on up anyway.
And so, henceforth, I have referred to crab as "cram." So much so, that when I typed that sentence, it read "I have referred to cram as "cram." Heh.
This weekend, Jennifer, Thomas and I ventured out to the Tiki Bar in Carolina Beach in search of sun, sand, Coronas with lime, cram legs and Da Howlies, my neighbor Paul's band.
Well, it poured. But we ate cram legs anyway. Here is some carnage, courtesy of Jennifer's phone:
And here is a moist towelette (shudder):
Discussion at dinner included: how the phrase "moist towelette" is JUST SO WRONG, and how I think that the phrase "save it for later" is hilarious (causing people to stow their moist towelettes in interesting places, so as to save them for later).
When it started to pour, we collected the awesome Michelle G. and headed for our front porch, where Paul busted out his drums and we were all percussionally inclined for several glorious hours. Thomas broke out his washboard and jug and Jennifer even played a wooden frog (she kept calling it a fog) from Thailand. It was one of those blessed evenings you can't plan for, with people calling out their favorite words:
"Guantanamo Bay!"
"Rapture!"
"Quantico!"
"Mellifluous!"
"Onomatopoeic!"
Naming our dreadful band ("Sunnyland") and imagining our terrible show. "Hey," we'd say. "We're Sunnyland. And we kind of suck. But listen anyway!"
I was reminded once again of the glory of summer and good friends, the kind of friends you can just be crazy with. Thanks, guys.
And so, henceforth, I have referred to crab as "cram." So much so, that when I typed that sentence, it read "I have referred to cram as "cram." Heh.
This weekend, Jennifer, Thomas and I ventured out to the Tiki Bar in Carolina Beach in search of sun, sand, Coronas with lime, cram legs and Da Howlies, my neighbor Paul's band.
Well, it poured. But we ate cram legs anyway. Here is some carnage, courtesy of Jennifer's phone:
And here is a moist towelette (shudder):
Discussion at dinner included: how the phrase "moist towelette" is JUST SO WRONG, and how I think that the phrase "save it for later" is hilarious (causing people to stow their moist towelettes in interesting places, so as to save them for later).
When it started to pour, we collected the awesome Michelle G. and headed for our front porch, where Paul busted out his drums and we were all percussionally inclined for several glorious hours. Thomas broke out his washboard and jug and Jennifer even played a wooden frog (she kept calling it a fog) from Thailand. It was one of those blessed evenings you can't plan for, with people calling out their favorite words:
"Guantanamo Bay!"
"Rapture!"
"Quantico!"
"Mellifluous!"
"Onomatopoeic!"
Naming our dreadful band ("Sunnyland") and imagining our terrible show. "Hey," we'd say. "We're Sunnyland. And we kind of suck. But listen anyway!"
I was reminded once again of the glory of summer and good friends, the kind of friends you can just be crazy with. Thanks, guys.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Currently
Life is quiet in Meg-land.
Read:
The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri
Shopgirl by Steve Martin
Here We Are in Paradise by Tony Earley
Reading:
Blue Angel by Francine Prose
Listening:
Here Comes Your Man by the Pixies
Slept Through:
For Your Consideration
Actually Watched:
Revenge of the Nerds
Worried about:
Oscar Peterson (isn't eating properly all of a sudden)
Gonzo (screamed when I pet him yesterday)
Rejoicing:
Tax refund arrival
Planted:
Angelonia
Ageratum
Amaryllis
(didn't notice until now that it was "A" day)
Yard Sale-ing Yield:
negligable
Ate:
Chicken Tikka Masala
Tempura fried crab in lueysuan sauce
Spicy Eggplant and Tofu with Thai Basil
Read:
The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri
Shopgirl by Steve Martin
Here We Are in Paradise by Tony Earley
Reading:
Blue Angel by Francine Prose
Listening:
Here Comes Your Man by the Pixies
Slept Through:
For Your Consideration
Actually Watched:
Revenge of the Nerds
Worried about:
Oscar Peterson (isn't eating properly all of a sudden)
Gonzo (screamed when I pet him yesterday)
Rejoicing:
Tax refund arrival
Planted:
Angelonia
Ageratum
Amaryllis
(didn't notice until now that it was "A" day)
Yard Sale-ing Yield:
negligable
Ate:
Chicken Tikka Masala
Tempura fried crab in lueysuan sauce
Spicy Eggplant and Tofu with Thai Basil
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Yes, I Eat Out of the Trashcan
So I've been enjoying this post by Lauren about dropping the love bomb.
I wanted to reply with a story of my own, but I actually don't remember the first time that Thomas and I said "I love you." We discussed it last night, but all we could come up with was, "Maybe it was at Lula's?" Sad.
(P.S. I just ate fake chocolate. It took 17 minutes for my body to figure it out. Uh oh.)
What we did remember was a very funny incident from the first couple of months that we were dating:
I eat a lot. I mean A LOT. I really think I could enter food eating contests and win. This is not something that I generally like to reveal to my significant other right off the bat. It does not seem feminine to reveal that you could eat 3 times the meal that he just put away.
So one night, Thomas brought home food from Checkers. To the best of our recollection, it was chicken fingers and fries. I ate my portion nicely (or at the speed of light, depending on your perspective) and waited while Thomas picked at his food in a leisurely manner. Finally, it appeared he would eat no more. Would I reach over and eat the food? Should I request the leftover food? Should I clear the table and eat it on the way to the kitchen? These and other options I pondered while Thomas put his uneaten food back in the Checkers' bag and threw it away. THREW IT AWAY!
So I did what any self-respecting person would do. I waited until he left the room, got it out of the trash and ate it.
Except he came back and caught me at it.
Thereafter, we were at a gas station and Thomas was going in. He asked me if I needed anything and I said no. He asked if I was sure. Yes, I said, I'm sure. He walked toward the gas station and stopped at the trashcan, pointing at it and looking at me as if to say, "Anything from in there you want?" Bastard.
To this day he'll still tease me about it.
I wanted to reply with a story of my own, but I actually don't remember the first time that Thomas and I said "I love you." We discussed it last night, but all we could come up with was, "Maybe it was at Lula's?" Sad.
(P.S. I just ate fake chocolate. It took 17 minutes for my body to figure it out. Uh oh.)
What we did remember was a very funny incident from the first couple of months that we were dating:
I eat a lot. I mean A LOT. I really think I could enter food eating contests and win. This is not something that I generally like to reveal to my significant other right off the bat. It does not seem feminine to reveal that you could eat 3 times the meal that he just put away.
So one night, Thomas brought home food from Checkers. To the best of our recollection, it was chicken fingers and fries. I ate my portion nicely (or at the speed of light, depending on your perspective) and waited while Thomas picked at his food in a leisurely manner. Finally, it appeared he would eat no more. Would I reach over and eat the food? Should I request the leftover food? Should I clear the table and eat it on the way to the kitchen? These and other options I pondered while Thomas put his uneaten food back in the Checkers' bag and threw it away. THREW IT AWAY!
So I did what any self-respecting person would do. I waited until he left the room, got it out of the trash and ate it.
Except he came back and caught me at it.
Thereafter, we were at a gas station and Thomas was going in. He asked me if I needed anything and I said no. He asked if I was sure. Yes, I said, I'm sure. He walked toward the gas station and stopped at the trashcan, pointing at it and looking at me as if to say, "Anything from in there you want?" Bastard.
To this day he'll still tease me about it.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Goodbye T:3
I just participated in the fine activity known as "denuding the enormous-ass fire hazard in my living room." It took me almost 2 hours to strip the tree and carefully wrap and box the 8 gazillion ornaments that I insisted on hanging this year, but I don't mind doing it.
This year I got to participate in the hanging of my friend Michelle's ornaments, and while that was totally wonderful and festive, I couldn't return her lovely gesture. My ornaments are so fragile and so dear to me that I'd throw myself in front of a moving car for them. If someone else broke one...well, I couldn't vouch for their health. And I don't think it's fair to ask someone to help you with something that could end your friendship...or their life. So, for that reason, I almost always undo my tree alone. But that's nice, because I get to visit with each ornament myself, even the ones that Thomas hung, and say goodbye to them before their long hibernation in the closet.
I've mentioned it before, but there's something so beautiful to me about having ornaments from 4 families on our tree. I love that there are ornaments from our parents' childhoods and our own. For a while at Christmas I considered spotlighting an ornament on each blog post, but I couldn't decide between them. Should it be Aunt Adeline's monstrously huge glitter one, or my mom's santa that's so old it's translucent? Thomas' record ornaments, or the first ornament my mom gave me when I wasn't living in her house? The tiny balls from my grandfather's 5 and 10 cents store, or one of Thomas' grandmother's intricately painted ones? I love them all so much; Like a kid kissing all her stuffed animals before she goes to bed, I couldn't leave one out. What if it was sad?
This has just reminded me of the only tangentially related idea of food that is too sad to eat.
This will definitely be a numbered entry on the next "weird things about me" meme, or on someone's list of reasons I should be committed, but there are some foods that just look too sad for me to eat. First on that list is pigs in blankets. I don't mind Little Smokies as a rule, but once they are wrapped in dough, I can't eat them. Those poor piggies just curled up in their blanket for a nap and AARRRAGGGAGGGG! Now they're digesting. Also cornish hens. So Sad! And peeps. I love when other people mutilate them, but I can't bring myself to do it. Especially not with my teeth.
This year I got to participate in the hanging of my friend Michelle's ornaments, and while that was totally wonderful and festive, I couldn't return her lovely gesture. My ornaments are so fragile and so dear to me that I'd throw myself in front of a moving car for them. If someone else broke one...well, I couldn't vouch for their health. And I don't think it's fair to ask someone to help you with something that could end your friendship...or their life. So, for that reason, I almost always undo my tree alone. But that's nice, because I get to visit with each ornament myself, even the ones that Thomas hung, and say goodbye to them before their long hibernation in the closet.
I've mentioned it before, but there's something so beautiful to me about having ornaments from 4 families on our tree. I love that there are ornaments from our parents' childhoods and our own. For a while at Christmas I considered spotlighting an ornament on each blog post, but I couldn't decide between them. Should it be Aunt Adeline's monstrously huge glitter one, or my mom's santa that's so old it's translucent? Thomas' record ornaments, or the first ornament my mom gave me when I wasn't living in her house? The tiny balls from my grandfather's 5 and 10 cents store, or one of Thomas' grandmother's intricately painted ones? I love them all so much; Like a kid kissing all her stuffed animals before she goes to bed, I couldn't leave one out. What if it was sad?
This has just reminded me of the only tangentially related idea of food that is too sad to eat.
This will definitely be a numbered entry on the next "weird things about me" meme, or on someone's list of reasons I should be committed, but there are some foods that just look too sad for me to eat. First on that list is pigs in blankets. I don't mind Little Smokies as a rule, but once they are wrapped in dough, I can't eat them. Those poor piggies just curled up in their blanket for a nap and AARRRAGGGAGGGG! Now they're digesting. Also cornish hens. So Sad! And peeps. I love when other people mutilate them, but I can't bring myself to do it. Especially not with my teeth.
Monday, January 01, 2007
FUN-due
The first time I ever had fondue was New Year's Eve, 2000. Some friends and I went out and bought 2 fondue pots and then we went to the grocery store and picked up some meat and vegetable oil. Then we went to the cheese counter and asked what they recommended for fondue. They recommended Gruyere. I wonder, can you see where this is going?
Vegetable oil isn't good for cooking at high tempuratures. It smokes, and it stinks to high heaven. Gruyere is not what you would call a mild cheese. In fact, that night, as it cooked, my friend Bethany said, "This cheese smells like scratching your ass." And that was true. None of the rest of us were going to say it out loud, but that was, in fact, exactly what it smelled like.
By 10, I had a headache so severe that I went to be early and missed the new year.
Several years later, when Thomas recommended doing a fondue night, I thought, "WHY? Why would anyone do that?"
But it turns out that the secret is peanut oil and brie. Much better taste to stink ratio.
So last night, we hosted our 2nd annual New Year's Fondue (or, as Thomas insists, Fun-due) Night. We added a chocolate pot for the first time this year and it was highly successful. Steak, tuna, chicken, vegetables, fruit, rosemary bread and little smokies. Yum.
Just after our first post-midnight sip of champagne, we somehow coerced the entire party into several renditions of "I'm Driving Down Highway 40 in my Big Old Pick-up Truck," including one for the benefit of my parents who had called to wish us a happy new year and I think were quite baffled by the whole thing.
Best wishes to everyone for a very happy 2007.
Vegetable oil isn't good for cooking at high tempuratures. It smokes, and it stinks to high heaven. Gruyere is not what you would call a mild cheese. In fact, that night, as it cooked, my friend Bethany said, "This cheese smells like scratching your ass." And that was true. None of the rest of us were going to say it out loud, but that was, in fact, exactly what it smelled like.
By 10, I had a headache so severe that I went to be early and missed the new year.
Several years later, when Thomas recommended doing a fondue night, I thought, "WHY? Why would anyone do that?"
But it turns out that the secret is peanut oil and brie. Much better taste to stink ratio.
So last night, we hosted our 2nd annual New Year's Fondue (or, as Thomas insists, Fun-due) Night. We added a chocolate pot for the first time this year and it was highly successful. Steak, tuna, chicken, vegetables, fruit, rosemary bread and little smokies. Yum.
Just after our first post-midnight sip of champagne, we somehow coerced the entire party into several renditions of "I'm Driving Down Highway 40 in my Big Old Pick-up Truck," including one for the benefit of my parents who had called to wish us a happy new year and I think were quite baffled by the whole thing.
Best wishes to everyone for a very happy 2007.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Merry Christmas
WE DID IT!! IT'S OVER!!
No, seriously, I had a wonderful time. In spite of being sick as a dog--the kind of sick where your mouth fills up with canker sores and you can't breath through your nose so the back of your tongue kind of dries out and everything aches and it hurts to eat--my Christmas dinner (including ham) went very well, my family and Thomas's family got along together happily, I gave and recieved awesome Christmas presents, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, I'm home now and no one can make me move off the couch for 5 whole days. Then I have to throw another party.
Highlights:
Gifts Given:
What Would Bacon Do? Folder to my friend Jennifer
Inanimates and Librarian Tattoos to both my mom, and best friend, Kasey
9 weight fly rod to my dad
Christmas Dinner Menu:
Brown Sugar Glazed Ham
Waldorf Salad
Mashed Potatoes
Peas
Corn Pudding
Creamed Onions
Pumpkin Pie
Gifts Recieved:
Awesome new camera with docking and printing station from Thomas
Complete Freaks and Geeks from Thomas
and technically this is Thomas's gift from my parents, but it's too cool not to mention:
The Gnome Be GoneAll in all, a great success. But I am glad that there is a whole year before I have to do it again. Hope everyone else had a great time, too.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Countdown
Today:
Presents returned, replaced, bought, wrapped. Done.
House cleaned except for vacuuming and sweeping.
Ingredients for Christmas dinner purchased.
2 pies baked.
My parents arrive at 4 o'clock tomorrow. We'll hold Christmas a couple of days early: tomorrow night is our Christmas eve. Then Saturday, we'll all open presents, I'll cook dinner and all of Thomas's family will arrive. Sunday morning, my parents will leave and Thomas and I will get in the car and drive to Southport to spend real Christmas with his mom and Jessica. By Monday night, I'll be back in the car, this time on my way home, with 6 gorgeous vacation days in front of me, Christmas gifts to play with, and no one to entertain.
Bring it.
I hope everyone is doing well and enjoying the holidays. No matter how much I hum bug, I love the sight of my tree all lit up (if slightly lopsided) and the way the house is so sparkly and full of good baking smells. I only see my family a couple of times a year, so I'm really looking forward to their visit. I got them some really great things this year which I will post about after Monday, just in case they read this before they come.
I'll probably be dormant until Tuesday what with everything going on, so Happy Holidays to everyone who makes this place my favorite part of the day. I hope your days are merry and bright.
Presents returned, replaced, bought, wrapped. Done.
House cleaned except for vacuuming and sweeping.
Ingredients for Christmas dinner purchased.
2 pies baked.
My parents arrive at 4 o'clock tomorrow. We'll hold Christmas a couple of days early: tomorrow night is our Christmas eve. Then Saturday, we'll all open presents, I'll cook dinner and all of Thomas's family will arrive. Sunday morning, my parents will leave and Thomas and I will get in the car and drive to Southport to spend real Christmas with his mom and Jessica. By Monday night, I'll be back in the car, this time on my way home, with 6 gorgeous vacation days in front of me, Christmas gifts to play with, and no one to entertain.
Bring it.
I hope everyone is doing well and enjoying the holidays. No matter how much I hum bug, I love the sight of my tree all lit up (if slightly lopsided) and the way the house is so sparkly and full of good baking smells. I only see my family a couple of times a year, so I'm really looking forward to their visit. I got them some really great things this year which I will post about after Monday, just in case they read this before they come.
I'll probably be dormant until Tuesday what with everything going on, so Happy Holidays to everyone who makes this place my favorite part of the day. I hope your days are merry and bright.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Bake-Bake-Bake, Bake-Bake-Bake, Bake your Cook-ie
Sorry to have been AWOL. The Christmas season, no matter how much I love it, takes its toll on me. In the last 24 hours, I have crocheted a hat, baked 5 batches of cookies, shopped, posed for Christmas pictures, wrapped 85% of the gifts I will give this season and written out 15 Christmas cards. Oh yeah, and I also went to work and slept.
Here is a glimpse of the Gilbert bakery:
For those I hold dear, including my waitress at Golden Corral, I have baked Irish shortbread, oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, white chocolate macadamia, and chocolate chip cookies.
Now, to finish the shopping, wrapping, card writing, cleaning in frantic preparation for my family's arrival on Friday and the subsequent Gilbert-Wittig family Christmas dinner on Saturday (I'm making a ham! I've never cooked a ham before! My mother in law will be there!), pie baking, and christmas cd burning. God help me.
Here is a glimpse of the Gilbert bakery:
For those I hold dear, including my waitress at Golden Corral, I have baked Irish shortbread, oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, white chocolate macadamia, and chocolate chip cookies.
Now, to finish the shopping, wrapping, card writing, cleaning in frantic preparation for my family's arrival on Friday and the subsequent Gilbert-Wittig family Christmas dinner on Saturday (I'm making a ham! I've never cooked a ham before! My mother in law will be there!), pie baking, and christmas cd burning. God help me.
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