Get Ur Fat On

Snarky the Snowman--ganache amok.

It's that time: forget the shopping, the songs, the decorations...I pretty much hate all that shit. Except bad light displays. My favorite part of the whole Xmas Xtravagaaaanzaaa is the food. Maybe it's the 'mo in me or the Appalachian...I dunno. But I'll probably spend great parts of the next two- and-a-half-weeks baking and tasting and sneaking off to grab a cookie or some candy when I should be eating something with vitamins, anti-oxidants, fiber and minerals instead of shortening, butter and chocolate.

Hopefully, not all of them will turn out as evil looking as Snarky did. I kept him for myself.

Last of the (faux) Pioneer Lesbians

Ach. I struck a blow today for freedom from agricultural tyranny! All of the tomato plants and their last unripened, rotting, blighted fruits are now festering on the compost heap. Huzzah. It's hard to describe the mild pleasure I felt as I yanked each plant and tossed it in the wheelbarrow.

All that's left now is to harvest the peppers to dry and turn into braids and wreaths (that is so totally not my idea, but that's what I'm doing.)

A few weeks ago I took god knows how many pounds of peppers and made jelly and pickles..pretty tasty...but not something I'm going to do again. (When handling peppers...make sure to wash your hands before you go to take a leak...that's all, I'm sayin.) I also ended up making and canning 20 quarts of vegetable broth. That's really what sent me over the edge about never canning again. My ambition and newly found tendency toward thrift got the best of me. The broth's delicious...it's perfect for soup and stews...but never again in such quantities.

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Went last Thursday to a United Methodist Rummage Sale with Ashley, Eric and Tommy...and had a great time. However...when dealing with acronyms for organizations, one should think about adolescent thirtysomethings who giggle when they see signage reading: Make checks payable to BUM Women. This was a serious rummage sale...at least 3,000 square feet of stuff. I scored a copy of the New York Times Cookbook for a buck, a verrrry 70s french press (also a buck) and some vintage/retro fabric remnants for this lap quilt I want to make this winter.

Drudgery Report

Brian told me last night I needed to post something here since it's been several days. Alas, the boy's right. There's just not much to write about. Usual round of things: gardening, reading, trying to write, etc etc etc.

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It's the damnedest thing, really. It's fall now, we've had the equinox and everything, but it's still pushing 90 degrees here. Leaves are coloring and crisping and littering the yard but it's still frigging hot. Crazy. I want it to be autumn. I want to wear sweaters, cook soups and stews (but no those hideous Rachel Ray "stoup" things.)

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It appears as though I'm tapped to read again next month, this time in concert with my friend Eric. I need to haul ass and get these new poems worked up.

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My friend Minda sent me this list of "real life plot twists of famous authors" from Mental Floss. It's not a bad diversion. Some of them I knew, some I didn't think were necessarily "twistish" but some are gold.

2. Horatio Alger, Jr.

Apparently, the author of more than 120 "rags-to-riches" books featuring hard-working, highly moral young heroes was also an admitted pederast.

Before finding success as an author, Alger was a minister at a Unitarian Church in Brewster, Massachusetts, where he was accused of sexually assaulting two young boys. Alger admitted his guilt, but left town before the news hit the street.

Later, he wound up in New York City, where he penned hundreds of best-selling books for and about young boys, which went on to grace the shelves of homes, schools and church libraries across America.

Cookery

A few weeks ago, Peter posted a recipe for yogurt marinaded lamb kebabs. It sounded yummy so I bookmarked it. I've been craving something that tastes a little Indian...so I modified it and am trying it tonight with chicken. We'll see how it goes.

So Much Crazy

Ach. I've finally settled down enough to make a half-assed pass at an entry. I feel like I've been playing catch-up since the end of March and am only now finally getting there. My shoulder feels great and has held up well to the increased manual labor. I've gotten a lot done but there's more to do. I'd wanted to be ahead by today--but that's not happening. Weed whacking and some planting to be done that I'll tackle once it's cooler. I got a small gash in my palm yesterday that makes me psycho-leary to do any digging, unless I wear gloves. Sometime in the last couple of weeks I came across a reference to a gaseous gangrene that can be picked up from microbes in the soil. I'm now convinced that if I dig around I'll get it. I never used to be like this...but it's happening more frequently now. I hate to wear gloves when I garden...it just feels clumsy and I like the gritty feeling of dirt under my nails. It's slightly uncomfortable but at the same time I enjoy the agitation. (I can say this about a lot of things actually.) It's supposed to finally rain tomorrow so I really need to just suck it up and do this.

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Baking again today--zucchini bread. Two kinds--straight up old school and then a version with shredded sweet potato added--very tasty.

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Brian arrives in a little over 48 hours. I am, bluntly, giddy as a school girl. I haven't seen him since February--weather, the shoulder issues, the bronchitis all conspired against me. This weekend is Strawberry Fest (I'll blog more about this later)--it is truly an insane experience. But there's always a lot of barbecuing, eating and drinking.