Our Gretchie loves fruit, vegetables and meat. No complaints at all about her eating habits. Compare that to Katie who still to this day prefers plain pasta and ham to anything else.
Tonight for a snack Katie had applesauce and Gretchie requested mushrooms. If that wasn't odd enough, she wanted them sauteed in butter.
I'm sure that I may have some odd snacking habits but sauteed mushrooms takes the cake.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
New Recipes
So I tried a couple new recipes for Christmas.
I found a one for Candy Cane cookies in the Nov. 29th issue of Family Circle. They are prettily decorated in the picture accompanying the recipe, mine ended up with a stripe of royal icing down the middle. Royal icing, I've found, tastes much better after the cookies have been frosted and it 'sets' for a good week or so. The cookies themselves were pretty simple, just butter cookies and with the royal icing; perfect with a cup of coffee or hot tea.
The second recipe I tried was from the Pioneer Woman; olive cheese bread. Seriously, if you are a fan of olives, cheese and Italian bread, meander yourself over to her website and use her Recipe Finder to get the recipe - since I made it, the green onions were omitted. I only used half of a loaf (since it was a new recipe and you just never know), using the other half loaf for plain old garlic bread. I did find that the baking time needed extended quite a bit and never did 'brown' but likely would had I used the broiler for a couple minutes. The olive cheese bread was really good and completely disappeared over at my parents' house. I went back for a second piece and was bummed to find the cutting board bare.
The only other things I made were tried and true: chocolate pie with graham cracker crust, almond bark pretzels and peppermint bark.
I found a one for Candy Cane cookies in the Nov. 29th issue of Family Circle. They are prettily decorated in the picture accompanying the recipe, mine ended up with a stripe of royal icing down the middle. Royal icing, I've found, tastes much better after the cookies have been frosted and it 'sets' for a good week or so. The cookies themselves were pretty simple, just butter cookies and with the royal icing; perfect with a cup of coffee or hot tea.
The second recipe I tried was from the Pioneer Woman; olive cheese bread. Seriously, if you are a fan of olives, cheese and Italian bread, meander yourself over to her website and use her Recipe Finder to get the recipe - since I made it, the green onions were omitted. I only used half of a loaf (since it was a new recipe and you just never know), using the other half loaf for plain old garlic bread. I did find that the baking time needed extended quite a bit and never did 'brown' but likely would had I used the broiler for a couple minutes. The olive cheese bread was really good and completely disappeared over at my parents' house. I went back for a second piece and was bummed to find the cutting board bare.
The only other things I made were tried and true: chocolate pie with graham cracker crust, almond bark pretzels and peppermint bark.
We had a lovely Christmas, surrounded by family, and now are content to spend a quiet weekend at home. Erik is working on little stuff around the house, the girls are enveloped in "Underdog" upstairs (thank you Jill & Todd!) and I'm half-watching reruns of British comedies on PBS.
According to my sister-in-law Sara, being a fan of quirky British comedies is a King-thing. My personal favorites are short-lived series from the 1970s - Open All Hours and The Good Life. They played regularly on the Denver PBS station when we lived in Colorado, complete with thick accents, crazy organic living inventions, mustard yellow decor, and long flowy costumes (braless, naturally).
I also love the squiggy group of older men on Last of the Summer Wine, the desperate to be upper-crust Hyacinth Bucket (it's Bou-quet!) with her slum-living sisters from Keeping Up Appearances and the blue-haired Betty Slocombe on Are You Being Served.
I'm not quite sure why they completely make me laugh, even after seeing the same episodes over and over again. Could be the absurdity of the shows, the seemingly random plotlines, the fact that the episodes are nearly 30 minutes long rather than the 22 minute American sitcoms and, of course, being on PBS there are no annoying commercials.
According to my sister-in-law Sara, being a fan of quirky British comedies is a King-thing. My personal favorites are short-lived series from the 1970s - Open All Hours and The Good Life. They played regularly on the Denver PBS station when we lived in Colorado, complete with thick accents, crazy organic living inventions, mustard yellow decor, and long flowy costumes (braless, naturally).
I also love the squiggy group of older men on Last of the Summer Wine, the desperate to be upper-crust Hyacinth Bucket (it's Bou-quet!) with her slum-living sisters from Keeping Up Appearances and the blue-haired Betty Slocombe on Are You Being Served.
I'm not quite sure why they completely make me laugh, even after seeing the same episodes over and over again. Could be the absurdity of the shows, the seemingly random plotlines, the fact that the episodes are nearly 30 minutes long rather than the 22 minute American sitcoms and, of course, being on PBS there are no annoying commercials.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
My wild and crazy husband and girls are outside in this ridiculously cold weather. They just want to see the snow up close and personal for a little bit. Toss the snow around a little, attempt to rebuild the fort that melted last week.
I am quite content to witness the activity from the warmth of the kitchen. I did volunteer to make some hot cocoa to warm their bones when they return, shivering through the front door.
I am quite content to witness the activity from the warmth of the kitchen. I did volunteer to make some hot cocoa to warm their bones when they return, shivering through the front door.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
A Question For You
Out shopping with Angie today, I made a pretty good dent in my Christmas list and have to say that I'm feeling rather Christmasy this evening. So the question I pose to you, my lovely blog readers is: What is your favorite Christmas or Holiday song and why?
Here, I'll start you off with mine, in no particular order.
"O Holy Night" -- it's the big swells of the band, the imagery of the cold and quiet night.
"Silver Bells" -- as sung by my Uncle Eddie, slightly off-beat, Frank Sinatra style.
"What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?" by Harry Connick, Jr. -- back about a dozen years ago when Pa and I were dating he had the tape "When My Heart Finds Christmas" by Mr. Connick in his car. It was very sweet and romantic to be serenaded on those cold fall evenings. It's still sweet and romantic, just doesn't happen quite so often these busy days.
Alright, now it's your turn.
Here, I'll start you off with mine, in no particular order.
"O Holy Night" -- it's the big swells of the band, the imagery of the cold and quiet night.
"Silver Bells" -- as sung by my Uncle Eddie, slightly off-beat, Frank Sinatra style.
"What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?" by Harry Connick, Jr. -- back about a dozen years ago when Pa and I were dating he had the tape "When My Heart Finds Christmas" by Mr. Connick in his car. It was very sweet and romantic to be serenaded on those cold fall evenings. It's still sweet and romantic, just doesn't happen quite so often these busy days.
Alright, now it's your turn.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Today has been one of those magically lazy days.
The girls went out to play in the new-fallen snow while Pa pushed the snow off the driveway and sidewalk. Later, the girls and I made pinecone bird feeders and I fixed chicken soup with rice. Lately, I've been getting a lot of good recipes from the Pioneer Woman and modified her Simple Chicken Soup into my own. This time I tripled the vegetables, next time I might get brave and use brown rice in place of white. It does take some convincing but the girls will eat it.
Now the girls are in bed and Pa is watching the Bears-Vikings game. I finally finished stitching the baby quilt I've been working on since May, just need Mom's help to finish the edge. We have taken our turns watching the snow fall, played games and put together jigzaw puzzles.
Overall, a pleasant day at home - and tonight we get to play Tooth Fairy, Katie lost her second front tooth. If only all she wanted for Christmas was her two front teeth...
The girls went out to play in the new-fallen snow while Pa pushed the snow off the driveway and sidewalk. Later, the girls and I made pinecone bird feeders and I fixed chicken soup with rice. Lately, I've been getting a lot of good recipes from the Pioneer Woman and modified her Simple Chicken Soup into my own. This time I tripled the vegetables, next time I might get brave and use brown rice in place of white. It does take some convincing but the girls will eat it.
Now the girls are in bed and Pa is watching the Bears-Vikings game. I finally finished stitching the baby quilt I've been working on since May, just need Mom's help to finish the edge. We have taken our turns watching the snow fall, played games and put together jigzaw puzzles.
Overall, a pleasant day at home - and tonight we get to play Tooth Fairy, Katie lost her second front tooth. If only all she wanted for Christmas was her two front teeth...
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving!
So many things to be thankful for this year --here are a couple of them. Wishing you all a wonderful holiday.
Playing air-guitar to Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Playing air-guitar to Red Hot Chili Peppers.
The little one in her 'indian hat' that she made at preschool/daycare. On the inside of the hat band she has been practicing her Gs.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Hayloft
Not long ago the girls and our nephew were climbing, jumping and running through the hay bales. I stood on the ground, hot and dusty, brushing loose hay off my clothes trying to think back to why this was so much fun. Then, on a whim, I climbed to the top and sat down on a bale. There it was; the calm heavy air, full of the heady sweetness of fresh mown hay.
No dust stirring, a kind of closed-off top of the world. Look out the barn door and you can see so much further than just across the yard; across the acres of corn and beans, up the hill that was likely the origin of the hay, to the distant houses in the east.
As children, all summer long we would spend every possible moment in the hay loft of the old corn-crib. It’s long gone, replaced in purpose by a steel shed. Getting up into the hay loft was an adventure in itself. A ladder with at least one missing rung, dust and tiny pieces of hay swirling down as you climbed up—squint your eyes just-so to keep it all out and still see where you’re going.
We’d occasionally find a couple of eggs left by one of our escapee laying hens. Then it was a challenge to see which of us was brave enough to lean out the wide window and throw it the farthest onto the long, red farrowing shed. If you were really good, you could fling the egg up and over so that it landed on the steep sloped shingles of the hay loft. Victory could not be declared until we called it a day and went to inspect the roof.
The heavy August air did not deter us; we’d sit on the sill of the window, one leg out, shredding pieces of hay with our grubby fingernails declaring territories in the hayloft. I usually settled for something comfortable about halfway up the enormous stack while my siblings were more adventurous and would climb all the way to the top.
I fondly remember lying there – lazy in the heat of the afternoon, bare feet up a bale, kitten sleepily purring next to me, my fingers dancing in the sparkly dust lit up by the sunlight streaming through the roof cracks, arriving straight from heaven, surrounded by the calm, heady sweetness of fresh mown hay.
No dust stirring, a kind of closed-off top of the world. Look out the barn door and you can see so much further than just across the yard; across the acres of corn and beans, up the hill that was likely the origin of the hay, to the distant houses in the east.
As children, all summer long we would spend every possible moment in the hay loft of the old corn-crib. It’s long gone, replaced in purpose by a steel shed. Getting up into the hay loft was an adventure in itself. A ladder with at least one missing rung, dust and tiny pieces of hay swirling down as you climbed up—squint your eyes just-so to keep it all out and still see where you’re going.
We’d occasionally find a couple of eggs left by one of our escapee laying hens. Then it was a challenge to see which of us was brave enough to lean out the wide window and throw it the farthest onto the long, red farrowing shed. If you were really good, you could fling the egg up and over so that it landed on the steep sloped shingles of the hay loft. Victory could not be declared until we called it a day and went to inspect the roof.
The heavy August air did not deter us; we’d sit on the sill of the window, one leg out, shredding pieces of hay with our grubby fingernails declaring territories in the hayloft. I usually settled for something comfortable about halfway up the enormous stack while my siblings were more adventurous and would climb all the way to the top.
I fondly remember lying there – lazy in the heat of the afternoon, bare feet up a bale, kitten sleepily purring next to me, my fingers dancing in the sparkly dust lit up by the sunlight streaming through the roof cracks, arriving straight from heaven, surrounded by the calm, heady sweetness of fresh mown hay.
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