What I said on Monday (but posted on Tuesday) was really true: I had no idea what to make for supper.

So that afternoon I went to my routine dermatology appointment, and while waiting for my name to be called, I picked up a Real Simple magazine to leaf through and there amongst all the glossy pages and coordinating colors I spied it: our dinner. It was on a two-page spread that listed off ten ways to cook eggs, all of which were real simple. Of course. (Or, of course not. Because they listed quiche as one of the simple dinners and I do not count quiche as “real simple.” It involves grating cheese and sauteing vegetables and making a crust and beating eggs and measuring things. This proves that the real simple mag editors have no handle on reality whatsoever, thank you very much.)

However, the recipe I zeroed in on did indeed look simple. True, there weren’t any greens in the meal (except for the fresh herbs and two tablespoons of herbs don’t count for a vegetable serving in my book), but that didn’t bend me out of shape too much. A meal without peas or spinach or green beans wouldn’t kill anyone. (I hoped.)

So after the doctor gave me a once over and an entire box of free medicine—whoot!—I hopped into my bunged up minivan and sped home to whip up my real simple supper.

While the water boiled for my eh-spaghetti (helpful hint: read it with a Spanish accent), I bustled outside to collect my herbs—basil, parsley, chives, thyme, and oregano. Back in the kitchen I minced the aforementioned green things along with a couple cloves of garlic. After that it was mostly a real simple (but kind of chaotic) process of assemblage that went something like this:

1. Saute the garlic, add the herbs and give a stir, toss in the eh-spaghetti and a little pasta water. Set aside.

2. Fry some eggs.

3. Assemble: plate pasta, top with fried egg(s), sprinkle with grated Parmesan and black pepper, and drizzle with olive oil.

4. Eat.

Moral of my tale: go the doctor when you don’t have any idea what to make for supper.

Spaghetti with Fresh Herbs and Fried Eggs
Adapted from Real Simple magazine

Enhancement suggestions: oven-roasted tomatoes, fresh tomatoes, sauteed zucchini, peas, etc.

1 pound spaghetti
4-8 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup assorted fresh herbs (parsley, basil, oregano, chives, thyme, etc.), roughly chopped
4-8 eggs, or as needed
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
salt and black pepper

Cook the spaghetti according to the package directions. Drain (reserving about a half cup of the pasta water) and set aside.

Saute the garlic in several tablespoons of olive oil. After a couple minutes, add the herbs and cook for 30 seconds or so. Add the pasta and toss to coat. (If it seems a little dry, splash in some of the pasta water.) Cover with a lid to keep warm and set aside.

In a separate pan, fry the eggs, making sure that the yolks stay runny.

Plate the spaghetti, top with an egg or two, a hearty drizzle of olive oil, a sprinkling of cheese, and salt and black pepper to taste. Dig in!

This same time, years previous: a driving lesson

Written yesterday afternoon…

I’m in a cooking slump. Part of it, maybe most of it, has to do with the fact that my two oldest have split for my parents’ house and I’m left with the two littlest (and a niece, but now she’s back at her mom and dad’s so it really is just me and my two littles), and after cooking for four or more kids, a five and a seven-year-old just feel like absolutely nothing. When a hunk of bread and a carrot will meet the need, what IS the point, huh?

I didn’t feed them bread and carrots for lunch. I made a pesto pizza with leftover dough, a splat of pesto, and some odd cheese ends (and oven roasted tomatoes for my part). If they get hungry this afternoon, I have four hotdog buns banging around (in an airy sort of way) in my bread drawer that they can have. The kids will probably get all excited about them, too.

See? Why cook?

But I do need to come up with something for supper. Mr. Handsome will come home tired and hungry and I have a pretty good hunch that hotdog buns just won’t cut it.

So that’s that problem.

On the other hand, these scones are not a problem. They were a problem at first, mostly because I hadn’t yet discovered them and was busy experimenting with other scone recipes and failing miserably and getting all grumpy about it. But then I discovered these and my problems were solved.

I made them for our family gathering and they were the first ones to disappear. I made them for our PA gathering and sister-in-law Kate has been politely hounding me for the recipe ever since. (Kate! Your day has come!) I baked some up yesterday afternoon and sent the majority home with my mom because their oven is on the fritz and my heart goes out to anyone who does not have access to a steady stream of baked goods.

But now I’m kind of regretting my spurt of big heartedness because I just ate the last scone and really want another one.

Orange Cranberry Scones
Adapted from House of Annie

To make these even more orange-y, submerge the craisins in hot orange juice for 20 minutes. Drain thoroughly before proceeding.

2 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
3 tablespoons white sugar
½ teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons butter
1-2 tablespoons orange zest
1 cup heavy cream
3/4 cup craisins
½ cup confectioners’ sugar, sifted
2 tablespoons orange juice

Mix together the flour, baking powder, white sugar, and salt. Using your fingers, a fork, or the food processor, cut in the butter. With a spoon, stir in the cream and zest. Add the craisins and knead lightly to combine. Divide the dough in half and shape each half into a disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for a couple hours. (At this point you can freeze the disks.)

Cut each disk into 8 pieces and bake on a lightly greased cookie sheet at 400 degrees for 12-18 minutes.

Make a glaze by combining the confectioners’ sugar and orange juice. Drizzle it on the scones while they’re still hot.

Yield: 16 delectable scones

The other evening I settled into the Amish rocker, drew the computer onto my knee, and clicked over to Ted.com. As soon as the speakers started making noise, the kids surrounded me (and soon husband, too). Thus awkwardly assembled, we together watched several talks*—one about focusing sound, another about illusions, and yet another about buying second-hand clothes.

The talk about thrift shopping was delivered by a color-and-fashion loving woman who had traveled to the Ted Dot Com place (wherever that is) with only seven pairs of underwear and then spent the week thrifting for clothes and photographing her daily outfits which she then used to illustrate her talk. One of the nuggets I gleaned went something like this: if you think you look good in an outfit, you do. If you don’t think you look good, you don’t. I’m not sure I completely believe that, but the gist of it is probably mostly true.

In any case, I decided to go thrifting for clothes.

Now let me say this: I hate shopping for clothes at thrift stores. It requires absolute concentration, abundant time, and lots and lots of Fabric Touching. I hate Fabric Touching, especially fabrics of the stale, stained, and stinky thrift store sort.

But I like the idea of thrift shopping for clothes (I already love thrifting for everything else), and that color-and-fashion jiving Ted woman done did go and get me all pumped up.

So on Saturday I arranged myself a block of time and plunged in cart first. I attacked the racks like a woman possessed, pulling off anything and everything that interested me, no matter how mildly. I even sifted through the wedding dresses and evening gowns! The sign on the changing room door said there was a three item limit which I promptly disregarded (because how in the world are you supposed to mix and match with only three things?)—I had well over 30 items tossed hither and yon. When I finally resurfaced, gasping for air and hair all disheveled, I was shocked to realize I was completely out of time.

And money. I spent over fifty bucks (which is a heck of a lot of money to dish out in a thrift store), and this is what I got.

1. A slinky black fringe dress.

I dig this dress. It’s super comfortable and makes me feel like Pocahontas in a heels-and-evening-gown sort of way.

2. A short stretchy black dress.

But I’ll wear it more like a tunic top, probably with leggings and boots. It’s a good first layer to any number of combinations.

3. A long brown sweater.

I spied this right as I was getting ready to leave and had to ask for the changing room key yet again. It’s soft and warm and will go well with a pair of skinny jeans and cowboy boots, neither of which I have. (But that is just a minor inconvenience.)

4. An old Navy fleece vest.

Because I wanted a fleece vest and I love dark blue.

5. A light-weight blue denim shirt with brown rope belt.

I’m not sure I’ll actually wear this, but I decided it was time to try my luck with the belted look. And the shirt itself is so comfy. Maybe paired with a brown skirt and those cowboy boots I don’t have?

6. A Lord of the Rings Princess Dress.

Just look at this dress, people! It has poofy sleeves! A fitted waist! A twirly skirt! (I tested it in the changing room.) I kind of doubted I’d ever wear the dress but the little girl inside of me forced me to buy it anyway, and when I got home my little real-life little girl stole it right out from under my nose.

I haven’t told her yet, but I think it’s destined to be hers.

7. A red jumper.

Because every homeschooling mom needs a jumper dress, right?

Um, no. Real reason: because it’s super-soft (I’m realizing I have a thing for soft clothes) and has funky little metal hook-y thingies for fastening the shoulder straps. Not sure what to wear under it—a white blouse?—but I’ll probably pair it with some boots. Those cowboy boots…

8. Workout clothes.

Short, flow-y black pants for belly dancing or for bumming around the house, and a cover-up shirt for the same.

9. A black corduroy skirt.

All-purpose. Warm. Sturdy. And the belt loops have character.

10. A little red velvet dress.

I’m not a fan of the Christmas Look but kind of doubt I’ll have any other option when I put this number on. I should probably just stick a candy cane in my mouth and get it over with. Giant jingle bells around my neck would provide a nice accent, no? Ho-ho-ho.

11. A gray lacy-like sweater.

It has the potential to dress up many an outfit.

12. A red tee.

Nothing much to say about this, expect that I’m beginning to realize I’m drawn to red. (And black, but I knew that already.)

13. A black tank.

It fits really well—no gaping around the arms. (I hate when shirts gape around the arms. Makes me feel insecure and socially inept.)

14. A black purse.

It’s almost exactly like the one I have now, but bigger so I can carry more junk, yay!

So to summarize: I bought a bunch of winter clothes at the beginning of summer and half of it isn’t what I’d normally wear but I’m really excited about it anyway.

Next step: to accessorize with flair. I’m thinking hats, scarves, chunky jewelry, and lime green tights.

By any chance, is this new behavior pattern indicative of an early onset mid-life crisis?

*I love this website. It’s made up of a lot of quality talks delivered by people passionate about what they do. Informative, inspiring, fun, etc. (Note: not all talks are appropriate for Little Eyes. Use discretion.)

This same time, years previous: cold-brewed iced coffee and cold-brewed iced tea (I’ve been making the coffee a half-gallon at a time), cabbage apple slaw with buttered pecans, sour cherry crostatas, how to freeze spinach, strawberry margarita cake, and Swiss chard rolls