Saturday, April 18, 2015

Quick Bread

What does one do with a big can of pumpkin that's nearing its death date?  Why one mixes up a double batch of pumpkin bread with raisins and chopped nuts, of course.  Some to eat, some to freeze, and some to share--because we're nice like that.  Our house smells so good I almost don't want to cook anything else today so the aroma of pumpkin and spices isn't overshadowed.  Almost.  There're some leftovers that are teetering on the brink so we'll "pick $hit with the chickens" as Mom used to say, for supper tonight.  Tomorrow Durwood's got big plans for a new recipe for crockpot chicken he wants to make.  (I went to the grocery for the ingredients today so he'll have everything at hand so I can loll around tomorrow because I sure didn't loll yesterday or today.)  I'm really anxious to try it, it looks deeeelicious.

I made good progress on the sleeves of the Red Marl sweater last night, got the cuffs to 4" and then shifted into stockinette while at the same time increasing every 4 rows--and I only forgot to drop one ball of yarn and pick up the other when I shifted sleeves ONCE.  I was finishing the first stitch on the next cuff with the previous cuff's working yarn when I realized that I was beginning to knit yarn handcuffs and fixed that stitch right away.  Whew.  That was a close one.  Too much talking and laughing plays hell with my concentration.  I even shushed everyone for a minute or two while I read and reread a line of instruction.  I've been knitting on this darned sweater for so many years and I'm so determined to finish it this year I don't want to make mistakes, at least not big ones that are hard or time-consuming to fix.

I was talking about my little squills blooming and the gardeners at the table were unfamiliar with them so I searched them on the web on my Kindle and found that they're also called scilla.  I know that these all blue ones were from GramMary's backyard but I think the white-with-blue-stripes ones were bonus bulbs with a big bulb order from Michigan Bulb Co. or someone like that.  They're so tiny, so short-lived, but so pretty and delicate.  I love 'em.

April 18--Jack McConnell, Executive Kisses Pig.

Pucker up, Porky,
time to kiss the boss.
Kiss your way up the ladder.
Kiss for a raise.
Kiss because you like kissing...
In the 70's cops were pigs,
nobody loved them--
except their moms.
I thought executives were
fat cats,
when did they get promoted
to pigs?

It was a definite challenge to write a poem about a man in a suit puckering up to kiss a great big ol' boar, but I think I managed admirably.  I think I'll swap my winter socks for my summer socks today.  Don't want to rush into anything, besides it's supposed to get downright chilly later in the week.  I will be covering my tender herbs at bedtime, yes I will.

1 comment:

Aunt B said...

You actually mentioned "summer"!!! The times they are a'changin'!!! We struggled with changing faucets in our bathroom yesterday but Paul was the man and got at least one set in. Second one should be easier. That's today's project! He works and I stand around and try to help. We've been doing that for nearly thirty years now! So glad he can still do those weekend jobs.