It's Breakfast Burrito Making Day

I've had the ingredients on hand for weeks, WEEKS!, and haven't managed to get the darned things made so this morning I chopped and grated while I watched CBS Sunday Morning (which DIL1 calls "slow news for old people" but I like it, just wait until she's old, I bet she'll like it too--or not) then cooked up the filling, set up the assembly line, and cranked out 17 pink-wrapped burritos for Durwood to have for breakfasts.  He insists that it's too much work for me, that we could buy boxes of already made breakfast burritos but I tell him that the store-bought ones are nothing more than cellophane-wrapped salt and preservatives and I want only the best for him.  Besides it's fun and it makes me feel like Betty Crocker.  I also make batches of scrambled egg muffins loaded with onions, peppers, ham cubes, chopped spinach, and cheese that I wrap and freeze (batches of 9 in the big muffin cups) for his breakfast eating pleasure.  Hey, I can't fix his lungs but I can at least make him nutritious food.

After spending yesterday morning roaring around to Fleet Farm, Walmart, and Pick 'n Save (three places you should avoid on any Saturday much less a December one) I parked myself on the couch to see if I couldn't engineer a mitten big enough for the yarn menagerie to hide in.  I had a skein of super bulky yarn that's white enough so I grabbed a set of size 15 needles, printed off a pair of mitten patterns for someplace to start from, and plunged in.  I cast on more stitches than either of them called for, knitted fewer rounds, and I'm working the decreases for the top sooner than either of them advise.  It's going to be short and squatty but all of the animals will fit in there and I am sure that LC and OJ will enjoy stuffing them in and "sneezing" them out for years to come--if OJ doesn't gnaw any of them into oblivion.  (He's at the "everything in the mouth" age; good thing I made everything washable)  But then I can make more, I have the tools and technology to do it over and over.

I was putting the groceries away yesterday, looked out the kitchen window and saw the hawk perched on the back of the patio chair.  By the time I got my camera up and running it was on the grass and then it walked, not flew, walked around to see about a bird in the neighbor's yard.  I managed to catch it through the honeysuckle just before it strolled out of sight.  I don't know if it was a successful hunt but it looked kind of funny walking.

There's a home Packers game today and, like last Sunday, it's snowing to beat the band.  This time the flakes are big and they're piling up so I am absolutely convinced that there won't be a flyover but I'll make sure I'm out there just in case.  I've been hoping for snow so my Kentucky grandson can experience a white Wisconsin Christmas so this better stay around for a couple weeks--but it can stop falling anytime now.  I have to go out and gas up the snowblower, then see if it starts.  Fingers crossed.  I meant to do that yesterday but it slipped my mind.  And just now HH reminded me that there's knitting book at the Ashwaubenon Goodwill I meant to go buy yesterday but forgot.  Now I have to wait because Lambeau Field is between me and the store and there's no way I'm going to get through the football traffic unless I go five miles out of the way and sneak up on it from a totally different direction.  I wish my "remembery" operated as well as my "forgettery" these days.

December 11--Mark Gamba, Toddly and Grandma.  Jean lifted Ethan so they could both smell the apple blossoms.  "Pretty," they agreed.  Ethan grabbed the branch, crushing a few flowers in his small fist.  He buried his nose in the broken petals and inhaled.  "Pitty," he said with a big grin.  She smiled at how pleased with himself he was.  In the years since his daddy had been small she had forgotten how children reacquainted you with the world's smallest miracles.  His little handful of apple blossoms motivated her to clip off a twig to put on her table in a jelly jar filled with water.  She knew that the simple flowers with the potential to be a pie in the autumn would remind her of the magic of nature for days to come.

Okay, it's time to get into my snow clothes and go out to start the snowblower--if it starts.  Please let it start.  Also I think I figured out a route to get to the Goodwill without having to buck the game traffic.  Yay, me!
--Barbara