Just in time for the season . . .

When I was a kid, I figured I'd get married at 18 and I should be prepared.  So, I started collecting recipes.  I figured I'd have to feed the brute who was going to let me be a stay-at-home wife.

Well, things didn't work out that way.  I went off to work and stayed single for a VERY LONG TIME.  And when I finally got married, it was Mr. Ivy who did (and still does) at least 75% of the meal prep.  (Mostly so he can get a decent meal, although I've gotten better at cooking in the past couple of years.)

I was poking around in the basement a couple of weeks ago and found my little recipe box.  Boy, my handwriting was a LOT neater in those days.  (These days I have to squint and sometimes use a magnifying glass on my handwriting to figure out what the heck I've written.)  And darned if that little recipe box didn't contain 95% cakes, cookies, quick bread and muffin recipes.  Yup, I've got a sweet tooth, and my baking has always been better than my cooking.

I'm ecstatic because I've found the recipe I always used for pumpkin bread. It was one of the first recipes I made all by myself.  I haven't been able to make it for years before I lost the copy I had.  Thank goodness it was a copy--because there's the original bad boy in that little gray file box.  (I'm going to type it up and put it on the computer.)

Yesterday was grocery day and a big can of pumpkin went into the grocery cart.  Got the walnuts, too.  Ain't nothing like toasted pumpkin bread for breakfast.  Ahhhhhh.... 

What's the first recipe you remember making all by yourself?

I fixed it myself!

Over the summer, my fan died.  One day it worked fine, the next day it was pushing up daisies.  Somehow I didn't have the heart to throw it away.  But, lately I've been in a "if-you-haven't-used-it-in-a year (or longer) it's-time-to-get-rid-of-it" mood, so yesterday it got walked to the curb for the trash men.

Off I went grocery shopping.  But all the while I was picking stuff like kitty snacks and not-too-ripe banasas from the shelves, I was thinking about how much I loved my blue fan.

Back I came.  And there sat my fan.

I bought it just after I moved into my first house.    It was $25 at K-Mart and it worked great.  It worked so great, I went back a month later to get another one and they didn't have the same model, but I bought one anyway.  It has long since gone to fan heaven.

My Dad, who passed away last year, would never have tossed out a useful item without trying to fix it first.  So, in view of all my neighbors, I retrieved my fan from the trash and brought it back inside.  As I suspected, it wasn't broken at all.  But it had been living near our forced-air heat run for the last 17 years and it was full of dust.  (Ick--we're breathing in all that crap all winter?  Oy!)

With just the first shot with the mini shop vac, it started to run again, but then I took the back off and really gave it a good clean with vacuum, compressed air, and a dust cloth.  Now it runs like new.

All the time I was cleaning it I felt like my Dad was standing behind me giving me advice.  And best of all--I got my beloved fan back.  (Just in time to retire it for the winter. Oh well, you can't win them all, eh?)

Do you try to fix broken items?

Eww! It went bad!

Back in February, Mr. Ivy and I bought a new fridge.  Actually, I bought it.  For some reason, he wasn't available the day we decided we had to get rid of the old one.  (It was freezing EVERYTHING, especially the milk.)

Fast forward into summer and -- gosh darn it, didn't we wish we still had old Mr. Freezer Fridge, because now our milk is constantly going bad.  I don't mean one or two before their sell-by dates, I mean ALL OF IT.

The new fridge has these really big door shelves that will hold a gallon container of milk.  Great.  Except the milk is always warm.  Not great.

So now we've moved the milk from the really convenient place, and put it on one of the shelves, where stuff usually gets shoved in front of it.  Then we have to search to get the milk out for stuff like adding to coffee or recipes.  Not very convenient.

Truth be told, we just don't like this new fridge.  It's too small.  The guy at the appliance store assured me this was THE standard size fridge, but it isn't.  The next time I was in the store I looked a bit harder and saw that there are quite a few taller ones.  (Of course they were all stainless steel and cost about $500 more, but that's beside the point.)

Well, at least the milk isn't going bad anymore.

Have you bought an appliance that didn't live up to its hype?

Go Home Pepe Le Pew

Even during the colder months, I like to leave the bedroom window open a crack for fresh air, but even that doesn't guarantee a good night's sleep.

I don't always sleep well, so I get a little irritated when "outside" events wake me in the middle of the night.  Annoying things like our neighbor's motion-sensor light.  Yup, RIGHT OUTSIDE OUR BEDROOM WINDOW.  Black-out shades?  Forgettaboutit.  This light is bright enough to search the heavens for incoming bombers . . . or a waddling skunk.

The light didn't go on last night, but a skunk did traipse through our yard--and apparently right under my open window.

Skunk.

Even the word is unpleasant.

Hubby likes to tell me that Chanel #5 is really just essence of skunk--watered (or rather alcohol-ed) down.  That most perfumes have behind them a really bad stink.  Okay, so how does one figure out that one drop of skunk stink in a hundred gallons of alcohol equals lovely perfume scent?

As I laid awake (for far to long) I kept telling myself ... the stink will go away soon.  The stink will go away soon.  Eventually, it did.

I sure hope Pepe Le Pew stays home tonight -- either that, or walks on the other side of our neighbors hour.  Yeah, by THEIR bedroom windows.  It's their turn to be awakened in the middle of the night.

Have you been skunked lately?

Trying to hang on to summer . . .

The following pictures were taken yesterday in my garden.  I could NOT believe that it was November 3rd and there were still lovely flowers blooming.  Can you say global warming?

This silly lilly is still blooming.  Okay, it's not as pretty as it should be, but it's still blooming.  I don't think I've ever seen any of our lilies bloom this late in the year.




Over the summer my friend Leann sent me a lovely hydrangea.  Isn't it pretty?  It's been blooming since mid-summer.




The marigolds are still going strong, too.




And one of my favorite flowers, cosmos--still in full bloom.



Are they still here this morning?  I'm afraid to look.  The temps dropped to the high 30s the night before.  But even if they're all gone today, they were there yesterday, and they were PRETTY!

Is anything still blooming in your garden?

What's a few tiny explostions . . .?

The other day I decided I'd like to have egg salad for lunch.  So I promptly put four eggs in a pan, set the burner on high, looked at the clock and said to myself, "Self, come back in 15 minutes."

Of course, I went back to my office (the other end of the house) and started working on emails.

About forty-five minutes later my husband said, "What's that noise?"

"What noise?"

"The cats must be up to something.  I go look."

Ivy goes back to work.

"ARRRRRGGGGGGGGG--the kitchen is full of smoke.  The eggs have exploded!  The pan is ruined!!!"

Uh . . . I guess I kinda forgot about my lunch.

And, thanks to hubby's scrubbing power, the (Farberware) pan was NOT ruined.  It's once again shiny and back in the cupboard ready for it's next adventure.

Next time I make hard-boiled eggs . . . I'll set the timer on my desk.  (Yes, I keep one there.  Otherwise I forget cats out on the enclosed porch on winter days.)

Um . . . that is, I'll set the timer . . . if I remember.

Have you had any cooking disasters lately?

(P.S.  Honestly compels me to tell you that the above picture was not taken by me.  My eggs were far more interesting because they'd exploded.  So there were shells and yolks all over the place.  Rats.  Why didn't I take a picture?)

The Last Farmer's Market of the Season

Saturday was the last farmer's market day of the season and we almost forgot. In fact, it was 1:55 and I said, "Hey, hubby--we forgot to go to the farmer's market!"  Well, on went the coats and hats and out the door we flew.

I'm not sure if they usually pack up at 2 or 3 p.m., or if it was the cold, gloomy rain, but we got there about ten minutes later and most of the market had already packed up and was gone.  There were a few straggler customers like us, though, and we walked up and down the aisle before deciding on what to get.  This week it was a stalk of Brussels sprouts, a small cauliflower, parsnips and a small cabbage.  Cost:  $4.50.  If we had bought these veggies at the supermarket, I estimate it would've been $8-$10.

Half the sprouts are already history.  We like them roasted with a little olive oil and freshly ground pepper.  I love parsnips, but don't know if I should just parboil them, then fry after a quick dip in a cornstarch/egg mixture.  (Oooh.  Yummy.)  I like to parboil the cauliflower and then pop it into a dish with shredded cheese and breadcrumbs--baking for about 20-30 minutes.  And as for the cabbage -- well, if we can find some corned beef, you know what's going to happen to that little guy.

What do you like to get at your farmer's market?

It tasted so goooooood

When I worked at the world headquarters for a Fortune 500 company many moons ago, they used to staff their own kitchens with their own workers who made homemade delights five days a week.  Oh, they had a TO-DIE-FOR walnut cake that was out of this world.  Their homemade soups were stupendous.  And they also made all their own muffins.

Mind you, when I'd leave the building on any given night, the air would smell heavenly -- just like a bran muffin.  It was actually the brewery across the river, but it smelled like breakfast to me.
And what did I love most at breakfast time?  Their marvelous bran muffins with raisins.  Several times a week I'd buy a bran muffin for my morning meal and hope that the guy in the with the gray eyes would be up at the cafeteria taking a coffee break so I could wave to him.  (Yeah, I ended up marrying the big lug.)

Fast forward way too many years.  The company went down the toilet, and long ago let go all their kitchen staff, and the company that took over the eats tossed out all the old favorite recipes.  The food wasn't as good, and the company ... well, let's just say the stock options I have are worth dog poop.

But I remember those muffins.  And I recently bought a bag of bran flour in hopes of recreating them.

My first attempt was not satisfactory.  I think my oven runs a little hot.  But they also weren't sweet enough.  I got the recipe from a 1930s cookbook.  "Hmmm," says I, "I'll find a better recipe on the Internet."  But most of them wanted to use bran cereal, not the real flour.  I wasn't as good a detective as my aunt, and she DID find me a great recipe.  Of course, I couldn't just make it as it.  I messed with it because it didn't seem sweet enough. I solved that by doubling the amount of raisins.  They are just perfect for breakfast or a mid-day snack.

INGREDIENTS
    * 1 Cup Bran Flour
    * 1 Cup White Flour
    * 4 Teaspoon Baking Powder
    * 1/2 Teaspoon Salt
    * 1 Cup of Whole Milk
    * 1/2 Cup Molasses or Corn Syrup
    * 1 Egg (well beaten)
    * 1 Tablespoon Melted Butter
    * 1/2 Cup Raisins  (I use a full cup of raisins)
    * Crisco Shortening or Paper Muffin Liners

Step 1:  Grease and lightly flour your muffin tins or use paper liners and Preheat your oven to 325 degrees.
Step 2: In a large bowl, mix together the 1 Cup White Flour, the 4 Teaspoons of of Baking Powder and the 1/2 Teaspoon of Salt.
Step 3:  Slowly add the 1 Cup of Bran Flour and mix together thoroughly.
Step 4:  Add in the 1/2 Cup of Molasses or Corn Syrup, the 1 Cup of Whole Milk, the Egg, Well Beaten and mix well.
Step 5:  Mix in the 1 Tablespoon of Melted Butter.
Step 6:  Fold in the Raisins.
Step 7:  Pour into muffin tins until approximately 3/4 full.
Step 8:  Bake for approximately 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.
Step 9:  Cool completely on baking rack before storing.
Makes 12 muffins


Is there something you long for that you wish you could have again?

Happy Halloween!

It came with everything but the thing I needed most

A couple of weeks ago, I bought a new printer.  I decided not to buy the most basic, El-Cheapo one because the time I did that it lasted a couple of weeks and poof!  Broken.  So this time, I bought a middle of the road one and paid (on sale) $129.99.

Low and behold I get this little printer home, go to set it up and -- hello!  There's no printer cord.  I spent $129 (plus 8% tax) to buy this sucker, and I can't use it until I go back to the store to buy a cord to hook it up to my computer.

Holy smoke--The prices were ridiculous!  It was $34 for a six foot cord.  I went for the three foot cord thinking that since the printer was going to be right next to the computer that it would do.  And it does--just barely.  The cost?  $24.99 plus tax.

That meant my $130 printer was really $155.  Grrrrrr!

And what has some cheapskate company gypped you out of lately?

Oops--lost another pair

I'm like an absent-minded professor (without the PhD, that is). I have a very bad habit of losing things.  Hubby calls it "the-drop-and-go" syndrome.  I'll be carrying something in my hand (glass of water, car keys, glasses, scissors, pens, pencils, camera, purse, and the list goes on and on and on) and because I'm thinking of something else, I'll set it down on my way to somewhere else . . . and forget where I put it.  This means I spend a lot of time looking for stuff.

One of the things I lose the most is reading glasses.  Now, if I only had one pair of them, it would be one thing.  But I have at LEAST six pairs of them around the house.  I keep them any place I like to plop down to read:  The dining room, the living room, my office, the bedroom, the enclosed porch, and the family room.  You'd think that with six pairs I would always have a pair available.

That would work if I didn't wear them on travels to the kitchen, to answer the door, or wandering around looking for something else.  So I take them off, drop them wherever and keep moving.

To fight the syndrome, instead of becoming much more efficient I've bought four more pair of "cheaters" (reading glasses).  I have no idea where I'm going to put them (there are no safe places--I forget where I put stuff, remember), so it's a fair bet that I'll lose these in no time flat, too.  (I've found if I have a glasses case in a certain spot (like my office or the porch), I'm better at putting them away.

Guess I'd better go buy some more glasses cases.

How about you?  Do you have drop-and-go syndrome, too?

Broccoli & Cheese -- hate that combination

Yesterday was my 19th Wedding Anniversary.  To celebrate, Hubby and I went out to lunch at the wonderful little restaurant around the corner from us.  (They make a pretty mean martini there, too.)

Anyway, I've been hankering for a piece of quiche for quite some time and thought -- that's what I'll have.  Mr. Lorraine warned me that the quiche of the day would be broccoli and cheddar.  Why?  Because whenever there's a quiche of the day, no matter WHERE we go for lunch, it's ALWAYS broccoli and cheddar.

Now, I happen to like both broccoli AND cheddar, but for some reason, not in the same dish. Why or WHY do restaurants insist that this is the only quiche that people want to eat?

Is there a glut of broccoli?  If so, I hadn't heard about it (or seen it in the supermarket).  Has something happened to the cheese industry and now they're ONLY making cheddar?  (Hmm...maybe I should warn my friend Avery Aames, who writes the Cheese Shop Mysteries -- maybe her character can solve this mystery.)
As it happens, I had my back-up choice all picked out.  Mediterranean pasta, with artichoke hearts,  kalamata olives, sun-dried tomatoes, and a bunch of other good stuff.

Eventually our waitress asked the dreaded question:  "Ready to order?"

"What's the quiche of the day?"

"Broccoli and cheddar.  And it comes with a wonderful salad all studded with strawberries and melon."

(Did I mention that I absolutely LOATHE strawberries and melon?)
Then she paused and added as an afterthought, and in a much more quiet voice, like it was an embarrassment.  "Oh, and we also have quiche Lorraine."

BINGO!

It was de-lish!

Is there something you like to order at restaurants but they never seem to have?

Rest In Peace, little mouse

 There's an old saying, "You don't know what you've got until you lose it."

I have lost my pink wireless mouse.

Well, lost isn't exactly true.  It's sitting here on my desk.  The little red light underneath shines brightly when I pick it up, but ... to quote Star Trek's Dr. McCoy, "It's dead, Jim."

I was out of town and working on the laptop when it happened.  I do not like the mouse device/pad they give you on a laptop.  For one thing, I can never highlight anything with it.  The idea of approaching the day's work without my wireless mouse was daunting.  But I was out in the sticks.  Where was I going to find another wireless mouse?  The nearest Walmart was at least a half an hour's drive (if not more).

I had another mouse in my laptop case, but even with new batteries it didn't want to work, either.

Someone on Facebook told me that dropping a mouse (which I seem to do a lot, thanks to my cute but tiny desk) will kill it.  Um...I think I dropped it three times the day before it died.  But I was working along and it just stopped dead.  So I changed the battery (which I'd had to do about every three weeks during the summer).

Dead, dead, dead.

Oh well, glad I had gassed up the car the day before, because it looked like Walmart here I come.  Except . . . I think I'm done with wireless mice.  I decided to get one with a wire.

They seem to live longer.

If you love it, they will change it

A couple of weeks ago, I hit pay dirt at a yard sale.  An entire paper box of old Taste of Home magazines and Country Woman magazines for $5.  (We're talking less than 5 cents each.)

I first found Taste of Home on a magazine rack in Lewiston, NY.  I was on my way to England via Toronto and wanted something to read on the plane.  Wee, this was fun!  A magazine with no advertising that was all about food. It had lots of cornball--but fun--sidebars, like "My Most Embarrassing Moment In The Kitchen," stuff kids got wrong (like saying a teacher's name was Miss Salad Bar instead of Miss Salazar), ridiculous menus that could "feed your family for $1.35 a plate" (yeah, if you had most of the spices in stock and had a family of 6-8).

Every issue was good for at least an hour or two of pure reading pleasure.
And the recipes were easy, with only a few ingredients.  (And they always featured a page or two of cooking for one or two, which is great if that's the size of your family.)

We ended up subscribing to a bunch of these Reiman Magazines.  And on a business trip, we even stopped and checked out the home base in Greendale, Wisconsin.

And then, as always happens when something is successful and bucks the trends, they got offered a big pile of money and got bought out.  In this case, to Readers Digest.  It wasn't long before Taste of Home went right down the toilet--IMNSHO.

All the cute, fun, cornball stuff was gone.  Gone were My Mom's Best Meal, and the like.  Everything that made the magazine(s) charming and unique was gone.  They decided to aim at a bigger demographic than just farm wives.  (Hey, I wasn't a farm wife, and I enjoyed it.) It became just another slick magazine and I stopped renewing.  That's why I buy up every old issue of the magazine I can find at yard sales.  Okay,  I now own three copies of some issues, but when you buy them for pennies a copy, what's the difference?

This whole situation reminds me of how Coca-Cola miscalculated when they decided to dump their successful Coke for New Coke.  Consumers let them know in a hurry what a big mistake that was.  Only so far it seems like Readers Digest won this round.  They may have found new readers, but I'll bet they lost a heck of a lot of their reader base, too.

What have you enjoyed that was ruined by improvements?

The great idea I forgot

I'm a listmaker.  I have lists all around me.  Or at least I have Post-It notes here there and everywhere to remind me of things I want to remember.  Why?  Because I'm a scatterbrain.  My Dad used to say my head was filled with Tommyrot.  It's been proven that multi-tasking is a big waste of time and that you get less done when you're trying to do too many things at once.  Well, my brain likes to multitask and then I forget stuff.

The thing I seem to forget about the most is blog topics.  Oooh...I had a beauty all planned for today.  I thought about it while I was cutting up a cold roast chicken yesterday morning--to make chicken salad.  (I LOVE chicken salad.)  But my hands were all greasy, and then I had to wash them, and get out the Mayo, and I figured I'd write it down as soon as I did that.

Well, I was also listening to a book on tape, so when I finished with the chicken and the mayo, I was so caught up in the story that I forgot to write down the blog topic.

And so today I'm writing about forgetting about what I wanted to write about.

I also leap out of my chair several times a day, charge across the house to do or get something, and then, because I'm thinking about three other things at the same time, get to my destination and wonder what the heck I wanted to do.

Multitasking?  Forgetaboutit.

How about you?