Monday, September 2, 2013

Lots To Tell, Lots Of Pix

Yesterday was eventful.  No only was it my 62nd birthday (happy birthday to me![singing]), the new tenants moved in, Durwood and I drove to the kite festival in Two Rivers, and grilled teriyaki chicken breasts with kohlrabi and fake mashed potatoes for supper.  (What?!? it was my birthday and I like those fake-y, flake-y mashed potatoes.)

DS & DIL1 stopped over with a card and the coolest coffee cups on the planet.  They're called Creature Cups.  They look normal from the side but when you look inside, SURPRISE!  There's a shark in
one and an octopus in the other.  In fact, I'm having coffee with the octopus right now.  Too funny and I love them.  Thanks, DS & DIL1.
It was cool and starting to drizzle when we got to the kite festival but I'd found a close parking place (how I do not know, the place was jammed) so Durwood could toddle back to the car when he got chilled and I walked around looking at kites and people.  There wasn't the "sky full of kites" like there was last year but I suspect that had to do with the cloudy and cool and rainy weather.  We watched a couple precision fliers, I walked around a bit gawking and we drove on home.  When I was maneuvering the car into the parking place a man jumped in front of me.  It was BLV, one of the dive guys!  I'd told him about the FREE kite festival last week and was glad to see that he made it.  One of these years I want to go for the Saturday night bonfire and lantern flight and fireworks. 

After our lovely supper I told Durwood about the tiny cake I saw at the grocery that made me laugh and we decided that I needed to go get it for my birthday cake.  It's a 5" hamburger cake.  Too funny!  We had half last night and will finish it tonight.  It was over-priced but I needed cake.  *nods confidently*

This morning I went out to pick tomatoes and had to come in for a
bigger bowl and then another bowl.  Lots of picking today!  So I got out our 2 biggest baking sheets and got to making ready for roasting.  Following DIL1's directions, I chunked up tomatoes and onions and a little garlic (I left the cloves whole and unpeeled), sprinkled on a little salt & pepper and dried oregano, and drizzled on a couple tablespoons of olive oil.  Then I tossed it a bit and they're in a 300 degree oven for an hour.  Oh, I switched the pans on the shelves at the halfway mark so
they roast evenly.  (man, it smells good in here!)  Once they're done to my satisfaction I'll let it all cool and then run it through the food mill (so I didn't have to peel or core the tomatoes) and freeze it in pint bags to use as tomato sauce, although the way the house smells right now it may not make it to suppertime.  I forgot to squeeze out the seeds of the beefier tomatoes, which means it'll probably need to roast a little longer.  I'll report.

After I picked the tomatoes I decided to open the patio umbrella.  I always make sure to examine it as I'm opening it to make sure no hornets are building nests there.  There were no nests but there were clusters of sleepy hornets inside the pleats that did not fly away but bumbled around, tapping each other with their
antennae and bumping into each other.  A couple even tumbled off onto the patio where I accidentally stepped on them.  Oops.

Today I plan to mow the lawn and mill the sauce and that's pretty much it.  Durwood scolds me that I don't sit still enough... but I like doing stuff.  I decided I'd give it a try again today.  I try and try but I end up popping up to do things like, I stripped the bed when I got up today so I'll be remaking it later.  Does that count as doing stuff?  I need guidelines.  Oh, and Durwood asked me to "look over my shoulder" when he makes a batch of tomato soup.  See?  I'm no good at lolling, even thinking about it makes my list longer, but I'll try.

September 2--Domenico Tiepolo, Satyr Leading a Centaur.  Cleo felt the tremor of hooves on the gravel road before she heard them.  It sounded like just one horse.  She was clipping the last sheet to the clothesline strung from the corner of her cabin to the big maple tree near the chicken coop.

Sorry, that's all she wrote.  Literally.  I lay down, managed to scribble those few words and I was gone.  Imagine a formulaic romance, one you could buy in the grocery, and you can finish it yourself.  His name is Rafe, if that helps.  Time to mow de lawn.  Oh, 300 degrees is too low, in our oven, to roast fresh tomatoes to the point I'm looking for in one hour.  I'm into the second half of the second hour and still the tomato edges aren't browned at all.  Enjoy your day off--if you're off.

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