I just wrote a post I’m not going to publish. So there went one hour of my day.
Digging in the freezer for chickens, I tore a bunch of skin off the back of my pinky. Shuffling frozen bags of ground beef, green beans, and bread around in a pit of white ice is the same as fingers scraping down a blackboard. I hate, hate, hate it.
First thing this morning, the kids and I watched this youtube video of how to cut up a chicken. Then we cut up a chicken, watched the video again, and cut up another one. Three or four more chickens and I’ll be a pro.
Then we ate breakfast.
I finally finished Middlesex. It was a good book, but I’m glad to be done with it.
Speaking of books…
A. For many months now, I’ve been racking my brain, trying to remember the title of a book my mother read to me and my brothers when we were young. All I could remember is that the kids lived in the mountains and put an onion poultice on some man, possibly while he was in a bathtub. Neither Google nor the librarian were any help, and my mother had no idea what I was talking about. And then one evening when I was leisurely perusing the stacks at the library, I saw it! The book was sitting there, centered on the shelf, screaming my name. I snatched it up before the title—Where the Lilies Bloom—even had a chance to register. It’s as good as I remember it, too.
B. I’ve recently discovered Johanna Hurwitz’s books and we’ve been cruising through them, one right after the other. The books are geared towards kids ages 4-8, but the older two love to listen in. In fact, my oldest child is the one who laughs the hardest at the funny parts.
My kids had their first-ever (as far as I know) Little Debbie cakes: Peppermint Swiss Rolls. It was a big deal. However, their enthusiasm quickly faded. “They’re not very good,” they said, confused by their disappointment.
Note to self: never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever buy Stayman apples again. In 2010 you said you didn’t like them and in 2011 you still didn’t like them. 2012 is no different.
After watching a Jackie Chan movie—The Spy Next Door—my youngest said, “If I was a Chinese person, I could kill anyone I wanted!” There were so many things wrong with that statement that I had no idea how to respond so I just said, “No.”
Tootsie just came in the mail. It’s more my style. (I think.) (I don’t really remember what it was about.) (Darn, maybe I’ll hate it.)
Are you supposed to italicize movie titles anymore? It’s suddenly looking kind of weird.
And no, we don’t watch movies all the time, though it may appear that way.
I’m dismal bored, so now it’s your turn. Throw me some crumbs, pretty please?
This same time, years previous: rum raisin shortbread,