Durwood found a recipe for Parmesan Corn Pudding in a magazine last week and we decided to make it yesterday. I kept thinking it was corn BREAD and wondered about it not having any leavening in it, but then I'd look at the name and come to my senses, at least temporarily. You puree a cup of fresh corn kernels, eggs, milk, grated Parmesan cheese, and cornmeal in the blender, then you stir that into another cup of corn kernels (or what's left from cutting them off of three cobs) and a couple of chopped green onions. Then you melt a little butter in an ovenproof skillet, pour in the corn mixture, and bake until a toothpick comes out clean. Oh my, it was good. I think we both were eyeing the other two servings but we held off in favor of the chicken and zucchini kabobs I grilled to go with it. Yum.
I got Sudoku Terracotta #9 done last night so that color's complete. Next come three squares in the Lake color and I cast on the first one and got a little corner started.
When I went out to fill the birdbath and pick a couple cherry tomatoes the sun was just clearing the trees on the horizon. Looks like a good day.
August 17--Pictorial, #B090.4.1. Stan watched the green letters and numbers move across the two-line screen. There was a lot less drama than there must have been when stock reports came on a long narrow strip of paper from a clicking ticker tape machine. He thought of men with eyeshades, vests over their long-sleeved white shirts sitting hunched over, entering numbers in columned ledgers. Rows and rows of men in straight lines, all of their heads tilted at the same angle, all of their pencils scratching out a rhythm on the page. Now a man's future could be ruined by green numbers gliding across the room. He had a momentary image of piles of glowing green letters and numbers falling off the end of the screen into piles that the custodian swept up at the end of the day and sorted out to be recycled.
I enjoyed goofing off most of yesterday but then I ended up scurrying around making black beans and rice for this week's lunches this morning. I should have done that yesterday but I didn't. *shrugs* I still made it to work. They're talking about storms here today. I hope that means that the humidity will blow away. It's been too hot and too sticky to do anything more than huddle in the air conditioning. Time to make like work. Both the UPS and FedEx guys brought me packages to open. Oh goodie.
--Barbara
I was literally scraping the bottom of the barrel to put peanuts in the shell out for the Bluejays so I dashed off to the birdseed store yesterday and bought a 50# sack (yes, fifty pounds, it saved me twenty bucks) of them and when I got home it was Bluejay party time. I refilled the peanut wreath and hung it up (because there wasn't room for it in the storage can anymore) and that was all the invitation they needed. This morning I noticed a squirrel crouched under the wreath with its little paws held as if in prayer; I'm certain it was trying to work out how to get up there and nab some nuts. It bounded off without trying. Good squirrel. There are three young orioles that have made one of our hummingbird feeders their own. Oh, they still dip their bills in the grape jam and orange half but the birdie juice is their real love. We had an oriole nectar feeder out there but they ignored it in favor of the smaller, harder to access ones. *shrug* Whatever, that just means Durwood uses a bit less sugar every time he boils up a batch of birdie juice.
I'm this close to having Sudoku Terracotta #9 done, and I was going to put off blogging until I finished it, but I realized that I needed to blog before my brain shut down for the day so here I am. I'll show you the last three all finished tomorrow. Promise.
I've decided I'm going to contact the designer of the Dobby Hat(s) pattern. I took the pattern and my hat so far to Guild the other night and had a Master Hand Knitter take a look and she agreed that the written directions don't match the photo, so I'm going to muster up my guts and email the designer and see what she has to say. Don't worry, I'll be respectful.
August 16--Rob Goldman, #526. Gabe, Max, and Raymi hunched over the building diagram on the metal-framed table they had dragged under the only working light in the abandoned welding shop. The late afternoon sun barely penetrated the filthy windows high on the walls. Max jabbed his finger at the plan. "We have to go in there. It's the only logical place to be out of view of the security cameras." Gabe shook his head. "These are not morons we're dealing with, they're sure to have something rigged in this so call dead zone of yours." He crooked his fingers making air quotes. "Look, guys," Raymi spread her arms out to them, "they won't be looking for someone bringing a painting in. I think we'll be okay."
Hm, a reverse art heist? That might be interesting. It's damned hot and humid today. I'm taking the day off and might not put on real clothes. Who am I kidding? It's after 2 o'clock, I'm not putting on real clothes. So sue me. I need a day off. *nyah* (my Grandma Stephan used to say "a bird will come and poop on your tongue" when I stuck it out but one never did so I'm risking it)
--Barbara
Durwood and I were wondering recently what a group of bluejays is called. You know that a group of crows is a "murder" and a group of owls is a "parliament." Dad loved that a flock of larks is called an "exaltation," but what's a group of bluejays called? I looked it up... well, I googled it and it's either a "charm" or a "party." I think those are both wrong; I think it should be called a "raucous" because of how they announce their arrival and call all their buddies when I've put out peanuts, but all the sources say different. I didn't get a vote.
Last night at knitting I tried to decipher a new pattern I bought on Ravelry for making crocheted snowballs -- for indoor snowball fights. I relearned one thing--a roomful of chattering, laughing knitters is NOT the place to figure out a new pattern. I had a snowball's chance in Hell of figuring it out. I put it away and worked toward finishing Sudoku Terracotta #8 and almost made it. I did the final few rows this morning. One more terracotta one to go and I'm on to making three lake (light blue) ones. I'm chugging away on these blocks. I foresee a screeching halt when I get to the last three colors that I have only one of each of, but I'll get through this. Unless an irresistible pattern sashays by and lures me away, of course.
August 15--Michael Paras, DSB93309-30A. "Fifteen miles," Paul said into the phone. "It's fifteen miles up the logging road from the county highway." He shifted the phone to his other ear so he could make a note on a scrap of paper. "No, there isn't a phone, there's barely electricity and that goes out when the wind blows too hard." Marilyn sat at her desk typing up the monthly reports. She had finished making out the payroll checks that Paul needed to sign before he left on his vacation. Things quieted down a lot when Paul was away. He was a good enough boss but he talked loud all the time and he barked orders when he got pressed for time or felt like he was in over his head. Marilyn was looking forward to a little peace and quiet.
It's going to be a hot one today, hot and sunny. I wish I had a pool to lounge in. Maybe I'll run through the sprinkler.
--Barbara
We had two appointments today three hours apart on the far east side of town. Our first plan was to dawdle around after the first one, grab some lunch, and then go to the second one. After the first appointment we stopped at a branch library for me to return a DVD due today, then I said I wanted to check out the east side Goodwill to see if there was any good yarn. Well, first we went to the book department and Durwood found a couple cookbooks he thought he could make good things out of (we're big fans of one-dish meals), then we went to the yarn department. I found a little bag of small skeins of bright "craft" yarn and a couple others that might get given to Friday Night Knitters or kept for myself. All in all, we dropped less than twenty bucks and needed two bags to get out of the door. Not bad. Then we decided that we really couldn't think of anything else to do and since we had over two hours left to kill we'd just go on home. But Durwood's van needed gas so we filled up and we decided we needed more sweet corn, peaches, maybe a cantaloupe, and he said he was down to one tomato (horrors!) so we swung a mile or so out of the way to our favorite farmstand, then we went home--where we barely had time to scarf down some lunch before it was time to zoom back all the way across town to our second appointment. Next time we need to plan better.
(ooh, it's getting dark outside and there're thunder rumbles... don't you love storms? when they don't blow down trees and stuff anyway)
This morning I picked a quartet of ripe cherry tomatoes that we shared at lunch (I love the way they grow in a bunch) and saw the spaghetti squash vine making a break for it. I'm fascinated by those tendrils that are straight when they're reaching out and coil up when they find something to grab onto.
I finished Hat #3 of the Dobby Hat(s) and consulted with VJ at Knitting Guild last night about ways to solve the pattern vs. photo problem. She approved of my "cable it all" plan and found a few places where I need to slip back to cross cable so the cabling is even. It was shaping up to be a hat for Bigfoot without doubling up the cabling. And I cast on Sudoku Terracotta #8 at the Guild meeting; it's the perfect kind of knitting for sitting at a meeting talking and laughing and not paying attention. It's good for waiting rooms too. I'm feeling good about sticking to making these little squares. Who knows, maybe I'll have the throw done one of these years?
August 14--Brian R. Wolff, USS George Washington. The gray ship rose like a continent over the horizon. Nate knew they didn't see him ahead of them in his sailboat. His only chance was to turn aside and ride the bow wave like dolphins did. He wasn't fast enough to sail out of the way and as it neared him the bulk of the carrier blocked the wind. His little engine wasn't strong enough and he knew that he was nothing more than a minute speck of white in the confusion of waves and sun sparkles on the water, even if someone on the huge vessel was looking his way.
What can I say, I wasn't very inspired by the photo of an aircraft carrier. Time to chase down something to make for supper. Can you say corn on the cob? And then it's off to Friday Night Knitting. Ahh.
--Barbara
It was easier than I thought it'd be (and worth an exclamation point, IMHO, so take that innerDictator), it only took a couple snips with a wire cutter right close to the cell where the squash was stuck, a little twist with the pliers, a little bend, a little tug, and it was free. It'll never outgrow the mark of the wire and it'll probably rot where it stands but at least if it does grow now it has a chance.
I finished Sudoku Terracotta #7 at work yesterday, and then I got to work on Hat #3 of the Dobby Hat(s). It was already attached to #1 & 2 but I had to find another skein of blue that I thought would go with the one I was using but not clash too much with the green to come, wind it up, and decide how and where I would join them. I ended up just using the first blue until it was too short, then adding in the second blue. No thinking needed. It's kind of a scrap hat anyway so I'm throwing the rules out the window.
I've been seeing those little yellow Minions all over my TV and wasn't quite sure what they were about so I asked DD and she recommended watching Despicable Me. I couldn't stream it on Netflix (tsk) so I borrowed it from the library. I watched it last night. I liked the Minions but I loved the little girls--and I kind of sniffled at the end, not cried exactly, but I did tear up when he read his book to them. *sniff*
The sky this morning looked like it really meant to rain on us. It didn't. It passed. They're saying maybe rain later. We need rain. We don't need more 89 degrees and humid, which they are also talking about today. *sigh* And we're supposed to knit in the park tonight at Guild. Good thing somebody's got the key to the building so we can go inside if it's yucky outside.
August 13--Jim Barber, #0343. The sunlight glinted off the brass spyglass in Tally's hand. She had found it in her Gramps' back room along with a tube of rolled up maps he said were nautical charts. "From my days on the water," he told her when she asked about them. They had unrolled the charts on the scrubbed pine table on the sunporch and he showed her how to read them. She was excited when the faint blue lines matched the coastline she could see from the top of the dunes.
And now I have to hurry off to DePere for a haircut before work. I'll be back once I get the store up and running to tack some pictures on, run Spellcheck, and post this. Back in a short... I'm back. Got my haircut and scheduled the next one for two days before I go up to The Clearing for a week-long writing workshop--that means it's only 6 weeks & 2 days away. Hooray!!! (there're three exclamation points, innerDictator, ha) Time to work, or at least be ready when work comes a-calling.
--Barbara
P.S.--I decided to change "innerHitler" to "innerDictator" so as not to offend anyone's delicate sensibilities. People are touchy these days and prone to not giving people the benefit of the doubt.
In floral and garden news, the gourd plant is still making blossoms and the vines are stretching out. The gourd-let I showed you last week didn't make it but there are plenty more making the attempt. I haven't had a minute to get out to try to free the spaghetti squash that's wedged itself into a chicken wire space but maybe before I leave for work I will (although I think it's a lost cause, I told Durwood I'd try).
The daisies are coming to an end as is the bee balm. The purple coneflowers are trying to take up the slack but I think they're fighting a losing battle. They just don't have the same oomph.
In the front of the house Dad's roses are making their second appearance of the season (and no Japanese beetles in sight *fingers crossed*), looking and smelling like roses are supposed to.
I spent a lovely evening with JC and LL talking about kids and grandkids--and the aches, pains, and physical challenges of both ourselves and our husbands. It was way more fun hearing about grandkids and kids than the doctoring we've all been doing. Imagine that.
August 12--Jim Barber, #0110. Jean thought they were a cluster of bowling balls shoved under a library table at the back of the antique shop. They turned out to be globes liberated from their stands, huddled together in the dark. Her first impulse was to drop to her knees to coo at them, trying to lure them out as she would a shy puppy, then she came to her senses and reached in to drag the box into the light. She controlled herself. She thought about whether she really needed a half-dozen stand-less globes in various sizes and ages. She also knew that she wouldn't leave without them. It would never do to let the old man behind the cluttered desk know just how much she wanted them. He looked like the kind of person who made up prices on the fly.
I burned the roof of my mouth right in back of my front teeth on a cob of corn the other day. I don't
recommend it. Tooth brushing is a painful challenge right now. Foof your corn, people. Don't let this happen to you. (I tried to put an exclamation point in the above sentences in a couple places but my innerHitler just won't let me. Man, she's strict.) Off to get ready for work and then see about freeing the squash.
--Barbara
Yesterday it was sunny when I drove to work but it didn't stay that way. Durwood called me to say that it was raining so hard here the birdbath looked like it was boiling when it was still sunny on the east side. But not for long. It started to rain and it RAINED like it wasn't going to stop. There was so much water was falling off the little roof over the back door it sounded like a fire hose. One of the instructors returned a pair of tanks for service in the middle of the deluge and I had to take a picture. It rained like that twice in the afternoon with gaps in between and last night was pretty dry, but it was raining again this morning when I got stuck on the bridge.
Do you know what's hard to find in August? Crocs for kids. The ones I bought for LC in the spring are getting too small so I've been searching for more. Not at Walmart. Not at Target. Not at Shopko or Walgreens. Not at Fleet Farm. But today I remembered that I had a gift card for Rogans. The shoe guy and I scrounged around and found one pair in size 5 and one in size 6. Granted, the size 5s are blue with superheroes on them but they're not fashion shoes, they're pool and backyard play shoes. I lose patience with stores when I can't find season-appropriate items. I could buy a whole cart full of Halloween costumes but can't find any Crocs, not even any knockoff Crocs. Grr.
