• Snapshots and captions

    You guys crack me up. I laughed so hard I got a headache.

    It was so strange to get your captions, read what you wrote and realize I had no idea what you were talking about because my perception of the photos I posted was so completely different from your interpretations.

    Thanks for humoring me and giving me a day off from writing. I like being lazy.

    Picture Number One:

    I just knew I shouldn’t have answered the phone! –Mama Pea

    Truth: That’s exactly what happened.

    Picture Number Two:

    I keep telling the kids… “Would ya stop plucking the darn chickens feathers and writing with their poo… it’s not normal” but they never listen… -Mavis

    Truth: Miss Beccaboo got a feather somewhere, took apart a pen, and then put the
    ink cartridge in the feather. It fits. She can even cap it.

    Picture Number Three:

    Homemade mayonnaise. I’m a convert.


    Picture Number Four:

    Holy Crap I’m getting old… I have to squint and look thru 2 lenses just to see anything… -Mavis

    Truth: the above, yes … plus, I just wanted to show you my dorky new look.


    Picture Number Five:

    You ate so many French baguettes last week that you can’t stand the thought of shoving one more tiny morsel of carbalicious goodness into your mouth. Instead, you stand there and make sculptures with it. –Zoe

    Zoe, NEVER!

    Truth: bread bowls for broccoli soup. I thought it’d be a nice treat for the kids. You know, a novelty, permission to play with their food, etc. But they didn’t like them. Not a single kid liked them. By the end of the meal I was snip-snappy. For dessert there was a stunning lecture on appreciation and mealtime etiquette.


    Picture Number Six:

    Sadly the well has run dry… Mr. Handsome can no longer bear children… -Mavis

    Truth: I just wanted to take a picture of a water drip. I think I took about 30. I never got a good picture of the drop dripping, though.

    But Mavis, about bearing children: yesterday some strange man stopped by to ask whether or not we’ve seen his missing dog. I hadn’t, but I invited him inside while I hollered at the kids to find out if they’d noticed any strange dogs running around. The man stepped inside and the kids swarmed—Yo-Yo was over by the stove shooting Mr. Handsome’s sneakers off the back of the sofa with a giant rubber band. Nickel and Miss Beccaboo came streaming the stairs. And Sweetsie ducked out of the little fort under the stairs.

    The man’s eyes got big and he said, “Wow, you’ve got a whole pack!”

    “Yeah,” I laughed.

    And then, chuckling, “I hope you and your husband have gotten it figured out by now?”

    Huh? Did he really just SAY that? I smiled benignly while discreetly scrutinizing him, but he was talking about something else, his comment already forgotten.

    I giggle every time I think of that conversation. So rude and funny, all at the same time. I liked him.

    Picture Number Seven:

    The little kids decided to clean my bedroom by themselves. Part of the cleaning process involved moving some of the potted plants that were on my dresser back to Nickel and Sweetsie’s room where they belong. (I had moved them to my room one night a week or two ago when Nickel had a nightmare and refused to stay in his bed unless I took all the plants out of his room.) Sweetsie was the one carrying the pot of trailing whatever-you-call-it out of my room, and as she walked through the door, one of the tendrils caught on the doorknob, unbeknownst to her. Sweetsie kept walking; the door kept the plant. What you see on the window sill are my efforts to salvage some of the greenery.

    Picture Number Eight:

    Living with these people is not easy… sometimes I have to take a little swig just to make it to lunch… -Mavis

    Truth: the fixings for French Onion Soup.

    Picture Number Nine:

    You thought maybe you’d stash the chips on the floor to fatten up the mice so they don’t scurry so fast through the walls at night. –Zoe

    Six minus one. (The first bag didn’t make it past Mr. H’s lunchtime at the Frankferd Farms buying group pickup spot. Didn’t he ‘fess up?) -Kris

    Truth: we do have a mouse.

    Truth: It better not touch my chips.

    Truth: there were six bags originally, and yes, Kris, Mr. Handsome tore into one of them on his way home from work. They were on special and they are incredibly delicious. Now they’ve been elevated from floor to top pantry shelf. I’m hoarding them.

    Picture Number Ten:

    I know this isn’t the way Mommy makes grilled cheese but it’s the way I do it. –Mama Pea

    Truth: Mr. Handsome is tearing into a piece of hot fried chicken. The kids had swarmed him when he first started sampling, so he banished them from the kitchen and then called them one by one to the table to take a taste.

    This same time, years previous: Julia’s chocolate almond cake, plus chocolate butter frosting, five-minute bread

  • Snapshots

    I’m out of practice. Just two days without writing and I feel all creaky rusty.

    It takes a lot to keep me in working condition. I think I’m what you’d call A High-Maintenance Person.

    In times like these, photos come in handy, prompting me with something to talk about. So—

    HEY! I just got an idea! I was going to say that I’d post the pictures and then write about them (whoa—how original is that!), but then I got me an ay-dear. I’m going to post the pictures and let YOU write about them (choose just one or write about them all). Then I’ll do another post (such organization! such planning!) with the same pictures and the best, most creative, most interesting captions. (In this case, truth holds not a drop of water. Live wild!) I’ll eventually tell you what the pictures are really about. Or not. We’ll see.

    What say you? Does it sound like a plan?

    Okay then. Here goes!

    Picture Number One:

    Picture Number Two:

    Picture Number Three:


    Picture Number Four:


    Picture Number Five:


    Picture Number Six:

    Picture Number Seven:

    Picture Number Eight:

    Picture Number Nine:

    Picture Number Ten:

    This same time, years previous: kiddisms, getting in fixes

  • What’s so wonderful

    So yesterday, to hoist myself out of the food rut I’ve been in, I sat myself down to make some plans. I listed off food that I have on hand that I want to use up. I asked the kids what foods they wanted me to cook. (I was very clear that their suggestions were just that, suggestions, and that I might not—nay, probably wouldn’t—make what they said.) I sketched a brief menu. (Kind of.) I called my mom. I did a belly dance workout.

    All the time I was puttering around, I was prepping myself, marshaling my reserves, stoking up my cooking energy, and then suddenly—BOOM! I exploded into the kitchen, slapping kettles on the stove, running down cellar for food, measuring, grating, stirring, yelling at the kids to get out of my way, and, in general, making one enormous mess.

    Oh yes, and cooking up a whole bunch of food, too. I made macaroni and cheese (using up a some leftover Christmas cheeses), cooked carrots with browned butter (Miss Beccaboo’s request), and peas. I made a pan of baked oatmeal for the next morning’s breakfast. I shaped bread loaves and put them in the fridge to proof. And last minute, I popped open a quart of sour cherries and baked them up into a delicious cobbler for our dessert.


    It may not sound like all that much food, and it isn’t, really, but I did it all in about an hour. And after not cooking much for a couple days, it was nothing less than a breakthrough. I even washed a small mountain of dirty kettles and bowls before sitting down to eat.

    We don’t usually have dessert for supper, so the cherry cobbler was the cause of much cheering and hollering … and scarfing. All of it got eaten up right then and there. And then more than one pair of eyes cast mournful glances at the pan’s sad emptiness.


    What’s so wonderful about this cobbler is that it can be whipped up in the thick of crazy cooking, baked while dinner is being eaten, and then brought to the table piping hot. Scooped steaming hot into bowls and then baptized with cold milk, it makes a comfy-cozy winter-time dessert. (Or if you want to dress it up a little, serve it with vanilla ice cream.)

    The other thing that’s so wonderful about this cobbler is that it makes use of almost any kind of fruit—fresh, frozen, or canned. At this time of year I’m always searching for ways to creatively use up my canned fruit, so I usually go that route. Stone fruits (peaches, plums, apricots, cherries) are excellent choices, as are raspberries and blueberries.


    The other thing that’s so wonderful about this cobbler is that it’s easy easy easy to make. Equal parts flour, sugar, and milk, with some baking powder and salt. Well, at least that’s the original recipe—I reduced the sugar a bit, throwing the even proportions slightly out of whack. Which leads me to the next point…


    The other thing that so wonderful about this cobbler is its versatility. Use all white flour, all whole wheat, or a combination. Or add in some different grains: spelt, cornmeal, oat flour, a bit of wheat germ, etc. Add more sugar, or less, depending on your tastes and the tartness of the fruit. Sub in some brown sugar, or maple syrup or honey, or maybe even a touch of molasses. Play around with the spices, add nuts (I added some almond meal to the cobbler that you see in the pictures), candied ginger, or some dried fruit. (Disclaimer: I have not tried all these variations—I’m just thinking out loud. Use your discretion when experimenting and don’t blame me if it goes all wonky.)


    Yet another thing that’s so wonderful about this cobbler—and this is perhaps the most wonderful part of the whole deal—is that it tastes delicious and the whole family loves it.

    Amen and The End.


    Quick Fruit Cobbler
    Adapted from the More-With-Less Cookbook by Doris Janzen Longacre

    I have doubled the original recipe. A single batch (half of what you see below) is supposed to go in a 9 x 9 pan, so you’d think that a double batch would go in a 9 x 13 pan. However, I have found the 9 x 13 pan to be a little too big. If you don’t mind a thinner cobbler, then by all means go for it, but I think a triple batch works best for a 9 x 13. For the recipe that follows, I use an 11 x 7. There. Did I confuse you sufficiently?

    1 cup flour (I use a mixture of whole wheat pastry and all-purpose)
    3/4 cup sugar (more or less) (plus 2 tablespoons for garnish)
    2 teaspoons baking powder
    ½ teaspoon salt
    1 cup milk
    4 cups fruit (if using canned fruit, save about ½ cup of the juice, optional)

    Whisk together the dry ingredients and then whisk in the milk. The batter will be quite runny. Pour the batter into a greased 11 x 7 pan.

    Distribute the fruit evenly over the top of the batter. (If using canned fruit, drain it first, and then drizzle a little of the fruit juice over the fruit-pocked batter, if you so desire.) Sprinkle the two tablespoons of sugar over top. Bake the cobbler at 350 degrees. The fruit and the batter will exchange places. When the fruit is bubbly and the top golden brown (or after about 30-40 minutes), the cobbler is done.

    Serve warm, topped with cold milk or some vanilla ice cream. Leftovers (yeah right) can be stored at room temperature or in the fridge.

    This same time, years previous: cranberry relish, spots of pretty, inner voices, the bet