Sunday, September 30, 2012

Today Is A Day To Preserve

Today I'll put all the raspberries (about 25 cups, maybe 30, a whole lot anyway) we found in the freezer together with sugar and a little heat to trap their red sweetness (and tiny seeds) in glass jars for Durwood to slather all over various toasted things over the next year.  I'm not a raspberry fan, I've told you this before, but I'm willing to make preserves for him, mostly because I love the way things look when they're in clear glass jars and shining in rows on top of the dishwasher.  I also picked up a rotisserie chicken yesterday that I boned while it was still hot (much easier to bone a hot chicken than a cold one) that I intend to turn into a cauldron of veggie-filled and delicious soup so that I can eat it for my work lunches for the next couple weeks.  I rediscovered a bag of mango chunks in the freezer that I can have for my fruit-with-lunch too.  I need to zoom over to Walmart as soon as I get this posted to buy some Sure-Jell and sugar to get that jam made, get some green tea for Durwood (he drinks a bunch of it a day), and a bag of some kind of frozen veggies to put in my soup.  Maybe I'll get a can of some kind of beans for my soup too... hm, black beans are good, so are chickpeas... I'd better get one of each so I have a choice.  There's a home Packer game today; it's the afternoon game and it's overcast right now.  The sky better damned well clear up so that they have the flyover before the game if it knows what's good for it.  You know that's the only part of football I like and I hate to miss it just for a few clouds.  I suspect that Walmart will be clogged with people who're only now out buying snacks and tailgating supplies but I'm willing to take the chance.  I'm brave that way.  I'm more curious about how the 3 roundabouts between me and Walmart are going to be...  Today's Photo a Day theme is "you, then" so here's a picture of me at age four.  Quite a change, don't you think?

September 30--Lyon & Healy, Pedal Harp.  She sat in the corner like a wraith, her dress blending with the wall covering.  Even her hair was the color of old gold as was her harp.  Her graceful hands hovered over the instrument as if luring the notes from the strings by magic.  She played with her eyes half-closed and her head cocked as if listening to dictation.  The music she made insinuated itself below and around the sounds of forks and knives on fine porcelain and the sedate pop of wine corks.  The conversation around the long table was quiet, refined, almost scripted to fit the formality and grandeur of the setting.  Carl let his foot slide to touch Mona's foot beside him.  Her cheeks reddened and a shiver set her earrings swaying.

Durwood's getting geared up to spend the day watching three football games in a row (I'm sure there'll be other games that he'll flip to if the one he's watching is boring or takes a break) and I'm off to gather ingredients.  I'm dressed, have my teeth brushed, and my hair combed.  I even sprayed it a bit to keep it in place and off my forehead.  Tally-ho!
--Barbara Sue

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