I am supposed to finish laundry, pick up the yard, and mow the lawn at the moment, so of course I’m playing on the computer. Travis just finished weed duty, then he’s going to clean his kegs and start the transfer process.
We’ve consistently (for 3 days, ha!) gotten one egg from the chickens (I think it’s Buffy) each day. Each day they get a teensy bit larger and the color is a little darker. One thing I noticed is that the yolk is the same size, there just seems to be more of the egg white. We cooked them up for breakfast this morning and they were definitely a darker color than our store-bought eggs, which is exciting to me. I’m wondering how long it will take before we actually have an egg backlog. Right now, we go through them faster than the chicken lays!
Poor sweet Cassie is full of matted fur. I think part of the problem started when we shaved her a couple of years ago (I read you’re not supposed to shave double-coated dogs) and the other problem is that we just don’t brush them often enough. Lexi is easy because her fur doesn’t really mat up. Sadie doesn’t either, she just needs constant brushing to get rid of the extra fur. But, she’s also kind of easy because you can swipe at her a few times here and there and eventually she gets groomed. But Cassie takes more effort and time (for being the same breed, she and Lexi have wildly different fur) and she’s just kind of been fur-neglected. So, we’re going to see if we can find a good groomer to do something and then try to take better care of her from here on out.
I made Jamie Oliver’s Chicken Braised in Milk the other night, except I followed this recipe instead, which added lemon juice (not just the zest) to the pot. I liked it, because you can taste the lemon juice ever so slightly in the finished sauce. I kept the cover on for the first hour, then took the cover off, which gave us some nice crispy skin on the breast. The chicken was moist and tender and the sauce was good over rice, on the chicken, and absorbed into some homemade bread. We also used an organic chicken (from Costco… small steps), which made me feel better, but I don’t know that it tasted all that different from a regular chicken.
Now I’ve got a pot roast in the oven – just a chuck roast with French Onion Soup and some beef broth – waiting to become dinner. That and the leftover chicken should get us through the week before we jet off to Denver.
All right. Enough procrastination. I’m going to go get my chores done so we can go get lunch.
Oh yeah, Happy Super Bowl Day! This may be the first year we don’t have plans to attend a party, which may be kind of nice.
- People seem to think headlights are only needed when you can’t see what’s in front of you. I believe if you can’t see the cars behind you (due to light rain, fog, or low level lighting at, say, dusk), then you should turn your lights on so others can see you.
- Donuts are not a proper breakfast. Bringing in boxes of donuts for work breakfast is just mean. At least give us something with some sort of redeeming value. Like a bagel. Or fruit.
- Weight changes seem to have a 1-day lag from behavior. While this makes logical sense, it’s kind of frustrating.
- Dogs don’t care that you have to go to work in the morning. If they’re up at 2am and something is bothering them, they will let you know.
- Dogs seem to think not being able to lick your hand at 2am is a notable problem.
- Planning meals in advance, and with enough foresight to leave leftovers for lunch, only works for a week. Then schedules get in the way, I get bored, and I just want to go out for sushi.
- Sushi does not make good leftovers.
- Rearranging the freezer does not mean you will end up with more room. It just means you have a better understanding of what’s taking up all that room in the first place. It also means you end up eating a lot of ice cream “because it’s about to go bad”.
- I’m not sure what “six more weeks of winter” means when you live in San Diego. If groundhogs lived in San Diego, would they even care about their shadow?
Posted in about, dogs, food
Merry Christmas from our house to yours!
Because I have been so lame with posting (and I even have so much to write about!) I offer you this cute picture of Cassie. Please forgive me.
Thanksgiving has always been a family affair for me. I remember my mom hosting Thanksgiving dinner (really, more like a late lunch) for what seems like forever. Even when I went off to college, I always came back for Thanksgiving. Luckily, I was within driving distance and didn’t have to deal with high airfares. When I moved to San Diego, I hosted Thanksgiving dinner once, just after moving into my new condo. My dinner table was a bunch of empty Ikea furniture boxes.
Sometimes, Travis and I can arrange to take a Christmas trip, but we always spend Thanksgiving with my family. It’s just one of those things we never question.
This year, we’re hosting dinner at our house. We’re a smaller group now – just my parents, my sister, and her boyfriend. It seems a little silly to consciously be thankful on this one day, but I suppose it’s better than never acknowledging it.
So, here is my list of thankful things and thoughts:
- All the lovely thoughts and comments about our sweet kitty.
- All the years (12 is a lot!) I had with that cat and how she was always the same, sweet, friendly cat no matter who I added to her household.
- My family – no matter what, you can always count on your family.
- Our friends, the ones we get to see all the time and the ones who live farther away.
- Including the one I’ve known the longest and the crazy fact that we (practically) live next door to each other, just as we planned all those years ago.
- All the online food people I’ve gotten to meet this year. How fun!
- Our dogs, even though they’re shedding like crazy right now. Don’t they know they need those coats for the cold weather?
- Our chickens, for the constant entertainment they’ve provided. And, one day, for their eggs.
- Our house, which is a home. It also lets us entertain, unwind, and enjoy our space.
- My new kitchen! I love it, and it was just barely worth all the time and energy we put into it.
- The Mira Mesa Trader Joe’s, which is easier for me to get to, plus it’s bigger and they have better food samples.
- My job, which I still enjoy and am grateful to have.
- Of course, I am grateful for Travis. He understands me better than I think and makes me happier than I thought I could be. He treats me well, puts up with my dogs, and he loved my cat. What more could a girl ask for?
Happy Thanksgiving to you and your families. I hope your bellies are full of tasty foods and decadent desserts. I know ours will be.
p.s. – If you are able, please consider donating to the Food 4 Kids program. I’m sure those kids would be very thankful.
I know I said there would be pictures of our New York trip and the fabulous meals we enjoyed, but you’re getting a short post on our crazy dog first. Because it’s easier.
We walked by a doggy boutique in one of the various neighborhoods in New York (on our way to/from the subway and/or to/from some restaurant) and Travis asked if they had an indestructible dog toys. The lady pulled out a stuffed lamb and said it was very tough and a good toy because if a dog happened to pull a leg off, the limbs were not connected to the main body so the stuffing couldn’t get pulled off. We took one look at it and knew it would last five seconds before being de-limbed, de-squeaked, and de-stuffed by Lexi. She seemed dubious about our claims of this destructive dog of ours, but then pulled out a squeaker ball disguised as a bunny.
meet the bunny
Lexi wanting the squeaker So Badly
Sadie investigating the chaos under the bed
Cassie being cute as usual
our crazy dog under the bed with her toys
I’m not really sure where I first came upon Domo. But I saw the Target Halloween versions on ljcfyi and felt compelled to get one. He came home with us and lived on top of a cabinet with Popper and Eeyore and the Highland Coo.
Then we did the kitchen remodel, which required everything cleaned out, cleared out, and stored in the front living room. Everything was fine for the longest time, and then I guess the dogs got too curious. Someone ventured into the room and found the stuffed animals (because if it’s stuffed it MUST be a dog toy!) and pulled poor Domo down for their enjoyment.
I didn’t see the carnage. T got home before I did and cleaned it up. But I guess he felt compelled to document the crime scene?
WARNING: if you are squeamish about stuffed animal innards or Domo-related violent crimes, please don’t continue!