OFFICIAL WIFE: Butter Lamb

pu-tuh TEW TEW TEW

*you have entered an Old Navy*

pu-tuh TEW TEW TEW

Go on and bob your head. Say it out loud, if you're brave... or no one is around.

pu-tuh TEW TEW TEW

pu-tuh TEW TEW TEW

pu-tuh TEW TEW TEW

Heart rate elevated? Now that that's over-- I decided to be super rational about my butter lamb this year. Not that I am ever not super rational... 

...about my butter lamb.

But let me go back to the beginning. Alex's mom sends him a lemony pound cake cooked in a coffee can every Easter. This goes into a basket that has been lined with a lace-trimmed white cloth, and carefully selected fruit is added along with a beeswax candle. This is how I knew that there were Easter baskets for adults. Sometimes you just know things; y'know?

Then. THEN. THEN!! I found this. (As an aside, everyone who's anyone reads this lady's blog, but no one seems to know her.) There are rules. There are instructions. I have a diagram!! --a diagram with meanings!!! This is all I need in life!!!!

So, from the beginning, the most fascinating part of this ensemble was the butter lamb. I imagined how the butter must have been carefully molded with fingers and cheesecloth, sunk into the well to harden, and presented to all who would see-- as an achievement at least as big as five birthday cakes in an era where refined sugar did not exist.

Boy was I disappointed that year.

But I kept trying. I tried with margarine, too. I carved and regulated my breathing. I got Kitty to help me. I smushed it down and reformed it, kneading the butter. I used sharp knives, toothpicks, skewers, and, of course, butter knives.

It looked vaguely lamb-like, but not anything I'd want anyone to see. I pouted. It's ridiculous how much emotional investment I put into the Easter basket every year.

Another year passed. Another succession of failures.

Then, I was talking with one of my friends (who represents 50% of the friend population) who happens to be Orthodox (the remaining 50% is an unaligned Christian, very similar in beliefs to myself). On top of the fact that I was doing a basket at all (They are more traditional American, with baskets of candy for kids.) she thought this was hilarious, "You tried to carve it?" lol "I can't believe it! No." lol "No. That's too funny."

I raise my eyebrow at you lady. Yes, you. I raise it!

Within moments she had returned from the intertubes with a link. I started laughing.

Oh, self. You crazy you.

Well, it's still kinda hard... Last year was the first year I was able to complete the diagram. There were many attempts at the butter lamb before I could place the final version in the basket. I sat for hours with a toothpick in hand (which isn't unusual).

So!-- as Lent began this year, instead of putting the butter in the freezer, then later letting it thaw, then later letting it get to moldable temperatures, I skipped the freezer. I coated two sides of the mold with regular butter, then made honey orange butter to fill it. The idea was, the outside would look the same, but the inside would be extra flavorful, and wouldn't that be nice on lemony pound cake Easter bread? Then, I wrapped up the remaining flavored butter, and it all went into the freezer.

Well, I pulled it out, hit auto defrost on the microwave (haha), and put the two sides together:

There's still time...

I'm sure CNN will keep you up to date on this important dish.

Oh, I want to do this next. I also want to keep bees and make candles. You may think I'm ambitious, but I just call it long-term planning.

I planted the Kitty-squished lettuce sprouts in the Eastern container. It looks pretty horrible, but the water will pull the roots down and the sun will pull the leaves up and it'll be right as rain next week. Yep. Uh-huh. *spits*

Being a good little girl from the country, I insisted on having a garden once I owned dirt. (The mosquitoes won. I'm terribly allergic.) One year, I planted a 2'X2' area of spring mix. The red romaine still volunteers:

 --then above that--

--another--

It tastes awful, though. We don't have "sweet" dirt, but SomeBunny doesn't want to lime it. Oh, well, I can container garden. Meanwhile, he'll tell you about adventures with toilets.

I need to put something in this:

Let's have a vote! A contest! Put your suggestion in the comment section below. What should I plant in here? Am I just trolling for comments? Well... I must admit that I bought a six pack of Sweet William (old lady speak for dianthus) and a 6" of Lavender Trailing Lantana (In old lady, this is yarrow which butterflies like, but I've only seen it in warm colors before.) from the reduced rack. Ninety-four cents and a dollar respectively. We'll see.

 This is where I put the paperwhites, which were for my side of the couch, while I took that picture.

AND. In case you think I showcase one of my six animals above all the others (pooh hah! Like I wouldn't be fair) here in all his chairback glory is the Tots. You can call him Trotsky.... or Pond Scum. He was covered in ringworm when we got him. Alex took me out for a drink for my birthday, and we came home with a ickle wickle kitten witten... from under a cabbage leaf.

Trotsky is male, but he has built in make-up. I like the markings around his eyes, in particular.

Love and not-cookies-but-still-really-really-cool-and-pretty-healthy-wait-until-you-see-tomorrow,


Alex's Wife

OFFICIAL WIFE: Spring!

I am battling plastic wrap! I am battling plastic wrap FOR YOU! For you, because you're special. Many pieces of plastic wrap have been sacrificed in this epic struggle.

I have the fear children do when they present a drawing.... but I have the ingenuity of the artist who accepts that the medium sometimes chooses its form and subject.

I will succeed with the flavor of blue cheese.

Success is pungent.

Last Saturday, before the world fell apart, life was better than usual. Much better. It might have been the best preparation for the apocalypse. I made something new and tasty-- even that Alex liked. The weather was nice. We joked and skipped our way through grocery shopping. I even... *sigh* After denying a purchase request multiple times, then coming home, I finally authorized a bajillion Christmases, and Alex bought two of these:

I planted Spring (English) peas in the Eastern one, and I said, "We need to be sure and water them every day, and we need to check on 'em because they are going to spring up and go like crazy!" SO every day we go look at the peas... at least once. No more than eight times... so far. Honest.

Yes, I meant to plant them that close together. C'mon, I know what I'm doing.

I told Alex it would be really nice to send a dish of peas to church during Lent-- just lightly steamed to make them bright and shiny, maybe a pinch of salt, maybe not. So we look on the packet, and he says, "Seventy days to harvest! We can serve them after Lent with butter!" But the packet also says seven to fourteen days until germination, and on this seventh day, what we see is a might past what I'd call 'germination':

Obviously, this will be continued...

I'm sprouting some lettuce in an egg carton and will plant in the Western planter:

I have plenty more room in both after that, too! This is the black krim tomato in a kitty litter container, which continues to ripen. The plant has also put forth another bloom.

So here's the pruned cherry tomato plant, currently:

I think pruning was the right choice!! Here's from last Sunday:

Here's an update on the lemon plant (today/last Saturday):

A while back, (artisan, no less!) red onions went on sale so I bought a bag. Red onions are a treat. I had one sprout so I put it in with the scallions I'm growing:

 

The (eldest) blueberry bush has green growth and ... buds?  Left. It was hard to focus on that thin branch. My camera kept saying, 'Pictures of grass? Coming up!' Because inanimate objects speak to me... or Bird. Yeah a little Birdie was translating camera speak into dog. I know dog.

Kitty couldn't take it anymore! She heard the shutter clicking:

From left to right basil, succulent left from decorating the cross (forget why[Alex: Feast of the Holy Cross]) for the mission here (I'm trying my darndest to sprout what seems to be an immortal form of greenery. I've seen 'gel' and maybe maybe some root nubs, but the cats keep drinking the water!), Kitty, Greek oregano --just one lil' sprout under her paw. I have a ton in the front yard and can start anyone who wants a plant, though. Trotsky in particular likes to sit there and nibble the (far right) parsley of which you may be eating some tomorrow* so I've set up the barricade of the tiny pot and teacup in which... I think... are some cucumber and pepper seeds; though, we've failed to water them so no sprouts.

Respectfully,

Mother of CAMO BEAR*, a distant relation to the panda

OFFICIAL WIFE: TRESPASSING

Church-folks won't get any steamed pork buns. People are bothering us so I need Alex to stay home.

All I want is my little little minute less than a quarter acre of land to feel safe.

Oh, tomato tree

Oh, tomato tree

Where shall we prune thee

tomato tree? 

This isn't the black krim, but a faithful cherry tomato plant that had gone to vine.

Pitifully,

A Sad Sad Lady

OFFICIAL WIFE: Diets (again-again[again?])

I love creating things. I  was a crafter as a child-- bubbles, crochet, woodworking knickknacks-- but experience has really soured any creation that isn't useful. --and what could be more useful than food? Everyone has to eat. What I create these days, and I thank you for the opportunity, is food.

One of my many hats is event planning, and I'm at the point in a convention where I need to address special accommodation requests, which are almost exclusively diet. We've got vegans and vegetarians (rookie material!), some easily avoided allergies like mangoes and nuts, a mild pepper allergy--hard for the chef but easy for me-- and a Kosher and a Glatt Kosher (the latter being a first for me). The Kosher had her birthday during the last event and wrote me a thankyou note for providing the meals she wanted which was really nice. There's this awesome tool. Maybe you won't eat what everyone else does, but I can get you fed!

Today's readers will know, but I'll explain to the time travelers that for us this Sunday is Meat-tastic Sunday. We're leaning into the big pre-Easter fast, and practically (though this doesn't necessarily mean in practice) since this is the last week we can eat meat for a while, we should clean the house out of meat. But there are things called freezers. Then, there are also things called people. Oh, people. For some, this Sunday is Meatpocalypse. The calendar calls it "Meatfare Sunday, SUNDAY OF THE LAST JUDGMENT."

The next half Ortho couple is getting a lifetime subscription for their wedding present. Really. You can have no idea until you're on the other side.

The following Sunday is the same for dairy, but it's less of a big deal and more of a shoulder to the wheel, let's get into the fast day. The calendar calls it "Cheesefare Sunday, Forgiveness Sunday," in which a lot of kneeling and kissing happens. My dad used to do the same thing with some purple bath cloths you walked up to the front to get. Then you gave it to someone and asked forgiveness. Then, they were pressured to give it to someone and ask for forgiveness. Then, finally, some unlucky person, due to a population shortage, had to bring it up front again.... me. I just kept it. I am one of the most stubborn people, which serves me well sometimes. I think I'll keep that, too.

You can't make me get up in front of a bunch of people.

You can't make me talk to someone.

No, thank you. I'll have my emotional transactions on a one on one basis. I've walked down the aisle exactly twice in my life, and both times were traumatic. Me and God and Alex have plans to stick together, thank you very much.

Once, I slipped it to Ms. Vera and just hugged her. Old ladies are magical creatures who can fix almost anything. If they can't fix it, they'll at least make it less of a tragedy.

Oh, and I'm still trying to eat low carb.... less and less successfully, to be honest. Over on Pinterest, I've created a Low Carb Vegan board, and I'm reviewing my Vegan*Mostly board. I've noticed that the fast tends to have an opposite than intended effect. No, I'm not a rube. I know the answer is prayer, prayer, more prayer, and constant prayer to always seek communion with God. Gah. Accept that I am human; I have. In short, I'm a sinner. I am wrong. I am human. --I will be honest, though.

But speaking of, I occasionally through the grace of God do something food... I mean good. See? :)

This is me doing research on steamed pork buns. We bought a pork loin on the cheap, and this will free up most of that freezer space. There's a parade today so we went grocery shopping last night (NEVER. AGAIN. Why would anyone with sense leave the house after dark????) so I'll spend most of today (hopefully to our mutual enjoyment) writing this and working on the buns. After dark I'll sit down and continue rereading The Stand. I'll do laundry tomorrow and work on meal-planning for the next week. I might clean the floors...

Nope, I cleaned 'em for the house blessin'!

I might take a bath.

Nope, I took one for the house blessin'. It's all good until next year.

It occurs to me that I have no idea what we're having for dinner tonight. Tomorrow we are having two Omaha Steaks hamburger patties that I got for Christmas (See? I'm being a good little cook. I'm doing my job.), but today... I  might make mashed potatoes. Oh, that sounds good. A big pile of mashed potatoes and green beans and purple hull peas covered in ketchup with a side of cornbread slathered with mayo.

See how well I'm doing low carb?!

Oh, in case you think what I send to church is ridiculous, this is what I want to send:

Level 57 Grocery Shopper? Yes. Tutified Ickle Wickle Maker? Yes. The above? Nope, not a chance! With any luck, it'll look like the three in the upper right.

Ermagosh! It's so tutatacious!!

Boooooooo!!! I can't take it! I need a cat, stat!

Kitty is warming the lettuce seeds. Oh, our black krim plant finally has a tomato!

I think the secret is pruning. Who ever heard of pruning tomatoes? I've been growing tomatoes my whole life, since I was a wee lass, and never did anyone prune a tomato. But it works... so. Now you know.

I've had another gardening breakthrough:

GUESS???!?!?

No, really-- GUESS?!?!?!?

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS!!!

IT'S LEMON! Isn't that the cow's tail? The train's horn? The guy's beard? The totes meh goats? The bee's knees? The cat's pajamas? The weasel's whiskers?

America's Test Kitchen is airing Julia's homemade tater tots right now. Oh, and I recently read Consider the Fork which I found very interesting, if anyone wants to borrow it.O.o Cooking with Nick Stellino is coming on! This nice lady is teaching me, but I wish I'd had the foresight to get some pretty muffin tin liners... I might stick some toothpicks in them. Pretty toothpicks can fix any dish.

So the lemon plant.... It's not an original idea. I saw it on a blog in a similar container. She planted her seeds in concentric rings (so did I, but mine got swished around) and put some little pebbles on top. The plant was touted as an air purifier which also gave off a pleasant lemony scent. I can't attest to the former, but as for the latter, I'm not smelling it.

But the cool thing is that I learned something. They didn't sprout for quite a while, and I'd written it off as a dud project. Then, I noticed that the ones near the window had sprouted, and hadn't we just had a mighty cold spell, so why don't I turn this thing around. Whatdya know, they're like tulips! So if you do this, run your seeds through the freezer.

Rambling Rug-Hug Taxer,

me

PS: No really. If you're a cat, and you sit on my newly acquired rug, you will pay the cuddle tax. Rugs aren't free. They're $15, and they're the cat's meow.