Monday, December 19, 2011

In which the universe offers me crazy pie, and I turn it down

(the crazy pie phrase is borrowed from the Yarn Harlot.)

This post is partially for those of you who have ever gotten way too far into some project, usually in the kitchen, and thought "But Martha made it look easy!"  (This doesn't have to be La Stewart herself.  It could be anyone who made it look easy, and was all excited about it, therefore making you think you could do the same thing.)

So I made these.  I got all the way up to just having to add the flour when the little girls I babysit were here - measuring and pouring are way up there on the list of things wee girls like to do, so it was all good.  There was oatmeal and sugar all over the floor, and I tidied and swept before adding the flour because it was just flour and a few tsps of things left.

HA.  So the girls left and I made lunch and went looking for other cookie in a jar recipes and one recipe I saw said "if you are new to this - you really do need to tamp each layer down as you add them."  Well, huh, I thought.  The lady who gave me some of these last year said the same thing, but you know, I left out the walnuts - it'll all be good.

Well, good is relative, I suppose.  Go back to that link?  See how the chocolate chips are well, brown?  As in not covered in flour, because whoever made them did NOT have to smack the jar on the table approx 432 times in order to get all the flour in?

There will be a fine coating of flour dust in my kitchen for the rest of my natural life.  At one point, I considered reprinting all the recipe labels, and adding "1/3 c flour" to the list of ingredients needed to perfect the cookies, but that was too much like giving up.  Also I discovered that the Italian seasoning spice bottle fit into the sealer quite nicely, and if I pushed on it with all my might for a count of ...well alot.  ...I had room for the flour.

And then I was looking at the finished jars, all wiped down and lidded and thought you know what would be nice?  Instead of cutting out circles of cloth that nobody will ever have use a for for the topper, I'll use handknit dishcloths!  And I counted my pile of dishcloths, and I have eight and a half.  And then I noticed that the round ones looked better than the square ones, but I only have two round ones, and this thought actually flipped through my head:

Well they only take a few hours to make.

And then I multiplied "a few" by ten, and even without looking at the date, knew that the universe was once again attempting to get me to take a big old bite of Crazy Pie.

So if you get one of the ones with a square dishcloth on it - be proud of me.

And pretend the chocolate chips provide a nice contrast, will you?

Friday, December 02, 2011

In which Murphy and I call it a draw for today

So I have this son.  He's 12.  He's grown approximately 8 billion inches since the beginning of July and mostly, he eats and sleeps and plays hockey.

Monday morning I was looking at him lying on the floor begging not to go to school because he was soooooooooooooo tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired, and he looked - well, awful.  Then he said his ears hurt and his legs hurt and so I thought, okay you have been complaining about being tired for six months.  Maybe you should see a doctor.

So today he bounces out of bed cheerful as a (insert cheerful thing), says his ears don't hurt, and he feels great!  Hopefully he has hockey today!

And I had to take him to the doctor anyway, because they charge $50 for cancelling an appointment less than 24 hours ahead of time.

So Murphy won that one.


I got home and decided to bake cookies.  I was in the kitchen trying to decide what to bake when there was a knock on my door, and there on my doorstep was the lady I work for, with the three tubs of frozen cookie dough I'd bought from the preschool fundraiser.

Take that, Murph.

(I looked up that whole Murphy thing, cause I was trying to explain it to my left brain and I couldn't remember where it came from.  And seriously - there's someone out there whose name is Murphy, attorney at law.  (I left out the first name just in case I should.)  I think that I would be nervous having that person defend me.  If I ever committed a crime.  I don't plan to, but there are still teenagers living here.)