Ode to the end of an Era...

Our fantastically fabulous babysitter is leaving us. She's headed to college. I don't know what we're going to do. She's been our babysitter for the last 4 years. Exclusively. Why do I love her?

She doesn't take any guff from any of the children or let them tell her things that we don't normally do.
She doesn't tolerate fighting from the children.
My house is always clean when I get home.
The TV is rarely on when I come home, instead, she's reading a book or studying.
She can drive.
The children love her. I mean... the children LOVE her!
She knows how to work my wood cookstove.
She has been the Easter Bunny to my children.
She doesn't let me pay her, no matter how hard I try.
She's my friend.
She's become part of the family.
She's someone that my children want to be like when they grow up.
She's smart and has ambition.
She's not afraid to tell me that she really DOESN'T want to hold the baby because baby is really small... but then she holds baby anyway because she can see that I need a fourth arm.
She IS my fourth arm...

I'm really going to miss her.

So... T.J. Westerberg. May the force be with you as you head off to college. I get first dibs when you get home. After your mom, that is. And I promise to send fudge and packages and call often.

There is Madness in my Method...

I am a person who functions much better when I am organized. There are some, my DSH (dear sweet hubby), who would successfully argue that I am not an organized person. Most would be on spot with that argument 99.99999% of the time. I am, however, trying to become more organized. In ALL areas of my life - not just the diaper bag part of my life. And yes, the diaper bag is organized. If it doesn't go on the baby's bum or isn't used to wipe the bum, it's not in the bag. I don't want to have to dig for an essential.

But. I digress.

In an effort to become better organized in my grocery shopping, I set up a numbers system for my menu. I have 36 different breakfasts (soon to be 37 since I invented a FABULOUS breakfast this morning...); 25 different lunches; and 115 different dinner ideas. (Yes, you read that correctly. 115 DIFFERENT dinner ideas) Theoretically, I can have a different Breakfast and Dinner every day for more than a month. (I can go 3 months without repeating the same dinner! Theoretically.)

Here's how it works.

Each menu item has a number attached to it. At the beginning of the month, I sit down with my handy-dandy-list of ideas, and ask random people (sometimes I'm at work) to pick a number between one and whatever the highest number is. Sometimes, they think they're winning something. They're not. (If no one wants to play, I draw numbers out of a jar... Or close my eyes and point to something. It's really quite entertaining...) I'm just planning my menu. I'm not allowed to repeat the meal, and try really hard to put meals next to each other if they're going to use a lot of the same ingredients - that way I'm using leftovers and don't waste food. I start with the first day of the month and put the first number down. Sometimes, if I know that I won't be home and there will be a babysitter, I'll put in a meal that doesn't require cooking (I'm not taking time to teach a babysitter how to operate my wood cookstove. Sorry. It's not in the contract.). Once a week "Smorgasbord" falls on the menu. (Some people call this "Cafeteria Night". It's really just a glorified name for "Left-Unders" (Left Overs means that it's become a science experiment. Left Unders means its been in the fridge under 4 days.))

Once the menu for the month is complete - (and I have to add here that I have two separate seasons for cooking: Wood Stove and Barbecue. I do plan in crock pot days because I want to make sure that my children eat, but we cook exclusively on a wood cookstove or on the barbecue (amazing what you can make on the barbie!)) then I plan out my grocery list for the month. I end up shopping at the grocery store twice monthly for a cartload of stuff - and hit up the store weekly for milk and fresh veggies. I have a form that I use to determine what I need; it's divided into categories.

Why do I do this? Because as much as I love grocery shopping (and I'm totally serious. I LOVE grocery shopping!), I am not insane. Yet. My children are all still young enough that I'm NOT carting them all over the store. And I'm NOT pushing one of those oversized-hard to push-never wants to turn-shaped like a car carts. Boo is the only one who gets to go. Sometimes I have to take Bug or Bud or Sweetie Pie or S.B. or ALL of them, but those are the days that they all go to bed early, and I bite my tongue to keep from yelling. So I have a list. I also have a budget. It's just over $300 for the month. If I have a menu, I keep within my budget. If I don't have a menu, I have to listen to "What's for dinner?" and "When are we going to eat?" (this last because I spend too much time trying to figure out what's for dinner...). AND, if I don't have a menu, I may as well forget about the budget.

The beauty of my system is that anyone can do it. And it can be personalized according to what your family will eat. The bonus of the system is that you don't have to eat macaroni and cheese 3 nights a week because it's now 15 minutes before bed and no one has eaten. And yes, I've done that.

If you'd like copies of my list, click HERE and send me an e-mail. If you want my menus because that's easier, click HERE and send me an e-mail. If you want recipes, let me know in the e-mail. Not only will I send you my lists, I'll send you my grocery form that you can personalize monthly. It's fun. You should really try it. Looking forward to hearing from you!

Date Update...

I was right. The date to the dentist will NOT be on the tops of my list. Ever.

I have a good dentist. Really I do. I am not, however, one of those people who hates food (is there really a person like that?). As a result, I did NOT get my milkshake, and I couldn't feel my left eyeball until close to 4 PM. Something about numbing the entire face so that they could put a crown on a tooth... who knew?!?!?

I was a source of entertainment for Andrew who kept asking me to smile... because only one side of my face would comply.

Now, I am left with feeling in my face, a sore mouth, and an inability to eat solids until my teeth stop hurting. I'm sure I don't want to eat the baby food in the pantry, but yogurt may get old... hmmmm... maybe I'll have a smoothie for dinner.

So we went to a popular restaurant for lunch after my root canal and 6 fillings (yes, there really were six...). I ordered fresh salmon. It wasn't fresh. It just tasted really fishy. I'm an Alaskan. If I can taste the fish odor, it's not fresh. (If ANYONE can taste the fish odor, it's not fresh!) I did something I have never done before, and sent it back for a replacement dish of Cheese Enchiladas. Really what I wanted was the sweet corn dessert that they put on the enchilada dish, but the enchiladas were perfect too. Too bad my mouth hurts too bad to eat it! Maybe tomorrow...

Ah well. I am now off to the kitchen to see what I can come up with for dinner for my children who are convinced that they are starving to death.

Forgettable Dates

A couple of weeks ago, my dear friend Jill asked a question about dates on her blog. Her question was along the lines of "what do you do on a date with your significant other - what has been your favorite date - how do you make time for yourself?"

I have an answer to the first question. It's more than likely NOT going to make it on the list of favorites. How do I know this when I have yet to GO on the date? Simple. I have to have a root canal. My significant other has to have his teeth cleaned. We scheduled them so that they are concurrent with each other. His will be, undeniably more pleasant than mine. I've never had a root canal. I'm not looking forward to it.

Our last date was also to the dentist. It's also not on the list of favorites. It ended with me sitting in the dentist's chair for what was supposed to be a 1 hour cleaning for a total of 3 hours. Now. Before you go judging me for poor dental habits, I have to clarify a couple of things. I have, in the past, in the recent past, not had good dental habits. I now brush AND floss at least 3 times daily. Secondly, I haven't been to the dentist in several years. Moving lots does that to you. Spending the majority of the last 5 years pregnant also does that to you. Being pregnant leaches calcium that would ordinarily go to your teeth... it's killer all around. So...

Lucky me, I get another date with my husband... to the dentist. Maybe this time he'll buy me that lunch he promised last time..... I think I want a milkshake.

Tender...

A few months ago A and I took the children to spend the afternoon with my cousin and her family. We had THE MOST DIVINE pork roast I have ever had. I love pork roast. I grew up eating pork roast baked in the oven and loving it. This was, however, the most tender roast I have ever eaten. Hands down. And it was cooked in the Crock Pot. Her secret? Milk. It also turns out that Martha (yes, THE MARTHA) knows a thing or two about cooking too...

Turns out that not only does Milk do a body good (pass it on...), it also does a Pork Roast good. It's not something that I would ordinarily think of as a tenderizer - and I'm not sure how it works. I do know, however, that it's one of two ways that I'll cook my pork from here on out! (The other way is Cafe Rio way, but that's for another post at another time...) Now - I have to add here that I don't cook my pork roast in the crock pot. Ever. It's way too dry for me, and there are few things worse than a dry roast...

Tonight, I cooked the same tender roast - albeit with a different flavor - this was my first time cooking pork in milk, after all - as my cousin did. A informed me that I should NEVER, and I mean NEVER cook a pork roast in the crock pot any other way (unless it was Cafe Rio way...).

How? Well... first, I should have seared my roast in a cast iron pan in olive oil and butter with some kosher salt and pepper. But I didn't. Next time, I will. Instead, today, I just put the roast into a small crock pot (it wasn't a big roast), sprinkled a package of pork gravy mix on top, and added 3 cups of whole milk. Personally, I don't think the pig cared if it was whole milk or 2% - but I had whole on hand, so used it. And then, I turned the pot to low and let it do its magic for 5 hours. Then... I turned the roast to high, and let it continue to cook for another 1.5 hours. It was tasty. Very Tasty.

Next time... I'll take a photo, use the drippings from the roast to make gravy, and see how well that works. I'll probably also use Martha's recipe as follows:

This delicious recipe is courtesy of Stephane Reynaud and can be found in his cookbook "Pork and Sons."

• YieldServes 6

Ingredients

• 1 Boston butt (3 1/4 pounds)
• 8 3/4 cups milk
• 3 cloves garlic
• 1 sprig fresh thyme
• 1 sprig fresh rosemary
• 2 dried bay leaves

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Place pork in a large Dutch-oven. Add milk, garlic, thyme, rosemary, and bay leaves. Cover, and transfer to oven. Cook until milk comes to a boil, about 45 minutes. Uncover and continue cooking until milk is evaporated, about 1 hour and 15 minutes.

   Discard herbs and serve pork hot or cold with milk sauce.

ENJOY!

On Dinner, Cattle, and Floors

I know. Odd combination. We'll start with Dinner, since it's the first thing that happened.

Last week I pulled out a recipe for Spicy Hot Chinese Chicken. (I only call it that because I can't spell Szechuan with any sort of positiveness that it's correct.) I had the intent of making my SHCC last THURSDAY, and gathered all the ingredients. It was in the middle of cooking rice in my electrical skillet - definitely NOT something I would recommend because it turns it into Uncle Ben's dried rice; but something we were doing because I didn't want to build a fire in the wood cookstove. I was being lazy. ANYWAY... back to the dinner. Right in the middle of this, A decided that he was in the mood for Bejing Beef from Panda Express. So the Spicy Hot Chinese Chicken went back in the pantry, and out came the Bejing Beef.

The NEXT day, we had Spicy Hot Chinese Chicken. It was divine. The flavor was well worth the wait. If only I could feel my tongue. I will definitely make this again, however, because I have small children and a sensitive tongue, I will reduce the amount of red pepper flakes that I put in. Try it as you desire - make it as hot as you want. It's worth it, and truly tastes as if you've been out to dinner without leaving the house.

The recipe comes from my dear friend, Heather, who ALSO reduces the amount of red pepper. I should have talked to her before making the dinner.

Super Spicy Hot Chinese Chicken
6 chicken breasts, cubed
3 T cornstarch
6 tsp. sugar
6 T soy sauce
3 tsp. white vinegar
1/3 c. oil
1 1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1 bunch green onions, sliced thinly
1 1/2 T fresh minced garlic
1 1/2 tsp. fresh orange zest

In a large bowl, combine the first 5 ingredients and allow to marinate. (15
minutes or so ought to do it.) Heat oil in cast iron skillet (you really can use
whatever pan you want, I use cast iron because that's ALL I use. I like it a
lot.) and add red pepper. THEN, add chicken mixture. Cook over high heat until
chicken is cooked through. Add remainder of ingredients and cook for 1-2
minutes. Serve over rice. Serves 6. It's worth it.

Now. Cattle. What was lost, is now found. And has celebrated its final day as a living, breathing, bovine. Because we don't know what caused the bovinus in the freezerus' to jump the fence, they have been turned into Hamburger. Literally. That and roasts. Some steaks, but not many. I think they're probably wondering how this all happened. Seriously. One minute they're eating grass in a nice pasture; the next, they're wandering 1.5 miles from home, and shortly after that little jaunt, they find themselves staring death in the face. And oh, what deliciousness they are going to be. A and I decided that it was too much a liability issue for us to keep them around. We can't take the risk of having them get out again, and if they were to damage someone else's property... NOT WORTH IT. Let this be a lesson to all the other cattle that may end up at our house. Don't jump the fence, or you'll end up in the freezer.

Floors. Several months ago we decided that we were tired of the way our floors looked. They were far too dirty and since they were raw wood, I couldn't scrub them. A did some work for a friend of his who is a floor re-finisher, and traded having our floors re-finished. They're currently being sanded and finished. I'll post a photo as soon as they're done. Let's just say... I DO sweep my floors on a regular basis. It just didn't look like it when they applied the sander. Nothing like bringing out your "I'm a terrible housekeeper" thoughts like having your floors sanded down to fresh wood! Since we're not at home right now, I'll have to get back to you later with more updates.

Until then, Keep the Faith. Hold to the Rod. Choose the Right. Primary Answers.

Dancing with Cattle

When I was a young girl - I don't know how old I was, I was just a lot younger than I am now, we used to have Friday Night Movies at our house. This was combined with Friday Night Date Night, in that we had tiers of movies that we were allowed to watch. The first was ALWAYS a cartoon. Everyone could watch that. The second was known as "THE BIG KID'S MOVIE". You had to be a certain age to watch that one. The third was the movie that only Mom and Dad got to watch. In their bedroom. With the door shut. And no interruptions. It wasn't a terrible movie, just one that the much younger people in the house weren't allowed to watch. Pretty sure none of us wanted to watch those movies anyway. They always seemed to be things like "Masterpiece Theater" or something equally boring to a young person.

But I digress. Really I brought up movie night because we had an incident at our house today that reminded me of movie night. One movie that we watched when I was a youngster was an old Groucho Marx movie. The scene was a party. and Groucho was dancing with Greta. He said to her, "I could dance with you 'til the cows come home... On second thought, I'd rather dance with the cows and wait for you to come home!" It was funny then.

Not so funny tonight when A comes into the house and announces to me that "Our cows are gone." I thought he was kidding. He wasn't. They jumped the fence, and we don't know where they are. You'd think that bovines of considerable girth would be easy to find. They're not. We're hoping someone turns them in. Kind of like lost and found, only not.

The girls are distraut. L is going to be COMPLETELY dismayed and upset (after asking about baby first thing in the morning, he looks for the cows. He likes cows.). We're maintaining faith that they come home in the morning. Sort of like cats. Or dogs. Only bigger.

I'll keep you posted on cattle.

And just so you know... dinner was hot. More on that later. Now, it's way after my bedtime, I still have a television to take apart (we're having our floors re-finished... I'll post photos on that later), and I'm tired. And I think C may wake up from her total comfortable state in a short while, and she'll want me. It's nice to be wanted.