A little while back, my mother reported she’d had a long and involved phone conversation with my aunt regarding hard boiled eggs.

Apparently, the trick to easy peeling is to first boil the water and then add the eggs.

Done this way, the shells release easy-peasy. Maybe because the hot water made the eggs suck in their egg guts? 

I was skeptical — if this method worked so well, wouldn’t I have heard of it by now? — but then I tried it and my head exploded just a little. Easy peeling. Smooth eggs. HOLY COW.

It took me a few tries to figure out the exact process — whether or not to return the eggs to a full boil, and how long to cook them for — and I made a few batches of soft boiled eggs in the process, but I think I’ve finally nailed it. 

Now, making hardboiled eggs, or rather the peeling of them, has gotten infinitely easier. Thanks, Mom and Aunty V. I can’t wait to reap the rewards of your next phone call.

Easy-Peel Hard Boiled Eggs

Boil water.
Place the eggs on a spoon and lower them gently into the water.
Bring the water back to a full boil.
Cut the heat and set the timer for 10 minutes.
When the time is up, pour off the hot water.
Run cold water over the eggs until they are cool to the touch.
Peel — giggling wildly all the while — and then eat!

Note: a 10-minute steep time yields a jammy-set yolk. If you want a firmer yolk, go 11 or 12 minutes. 

This same time, years previous: mushroom salt, the quotidian (10.4.21), twelve thousand doughnuts, catching our breath, wherein the blogger encounters a good book and tells her readers about it in a roundabout sort of way, at least I tried.

Remember when I wrote about my bedroom getting a facelift? If you don’t, that’s okay. It was three years ago, so here’s a recap: my husband tore out the teeny closet and installed a bigger and better closet on the opposite side of the room, and then, a few months later, he build a freestanding wardrobe, too. 

November 2021

We still weren’t done, though: I wanted a box with drawers for under our bed. Our bed has always been perched on the floor, an arrangement I actually prefer to a raised-up bed because, with the bed directly on the floor, I don’t have to clean under it and nothing can grab my feet. But we have always been ridiculously short on closet space (old house charm!), so I figured a bed on top of drawers would be the perfect solution. 

My husband agreed, or so he said, but then nothing happened. 

So for my birthday this year, I put “bed box” on my list (along with “patio” and “cheese cave” because —pro-tip — if you ask for something big, make sure you put several other big, BIG asks on the list because then it will make one of the big asks look more reasonable). And you know what? It worked! My older daughter mostly built the boxes (she works with my husband so “make mom’s birthday present” must’ve gotten tacked on her to-do list), and this week they installed the boxes while I was at work.

When I got home that day, my daughter was giggling. “You gotta go look,” she said.

As soon as I walked into my room, I busted up laughing.

The bed is so high! As in, it’s so high the air feels thinner up there. As in, getting into bed takes some effort. As in, getting out of bed requires some actual sliding, and then there’s a wee drop, too. 

finishing up the drawer handles

But the drawers, oh, the drawers!

They are absolutely massive.

That very night, my husband and I went through our closets, and I dug the boxes of my off-season clothing out of the attic (actually, two of them have been parked on the bedroom floor for months), and we organized and put away — PUT AWAY — all of it.

No more storage boxes for clothes! Our sheets and blankets are stored under our bed, and we still have room, lots of room, to spare.

The room looks a little weird — giant bed, tiny furniture — but I don’t care. Eventually I’ll figure out what I need to do to fix the “problem,” but for now it’s everything I ever wanted and then some.

Well, except for lighting. I really need to figure out a good bedside arrangement so I can read when I’m tucked in my nest.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (10.2.23), sunflowers, the quotidian (10.2.18), the soiree of 2014, a lesson I’d rather skip.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

Don’t be like me and forget to line the pan with foil.

An unwatched pot will boil over.

My mama made me a cake.

My husband named it “La Buena” for a reason.

To pierce my blues.

What is this and what am I using it for?

Fiona, boxed.

Porch pretty.

Birthday math.

Be still my heart.

Couch cuddles.

This same time, years previous: wanna place bets?, wedding buns, church, the quotidian (9.30.19), hey-hey, look who’s here!, you’re invited, welcome home to the circus, the myth of the hungry teen, chocolate birthday cake.