peter has a 'stache without a beard. no joke.

I made chicken stock.

!!!!

Alright, it’s not really that big of a deal except I’d never done it before and though I’d heard it was super easy and totally worth it, I thought my Better than Boullion was sufficient nor do I frequently have a carcass of a chicken hanging around. Saturday I had 4 hours and a dead chicken carcass. It was glorious. The smell was so comforting. The taste was unparalleled. The stock tasted like chicken and celery and onion and garlic and carrot and pepper. It did not taste like chemicals and salt. Saturday night I served up chicken and dumplings (Peter’s new favorite meal). Deeeelicious!

I am officially a homemade stock convert. I will now be one of those people who saves bones in her freezer to use when necessary which sounds kind of vile to this former vegetarian, but the results are worth it.

Next up: consistent bread baking. I will make room in my new fridge (which I fear is significantly smaller than my old fridge) for this whole no-knead-bread business my friend keeps RAVING about. I have the book. I just need to do it.

I have 3 days left of work before I get 4 days off to move. Excessive? Maybe. But the sanity of myself and my loved ones is worth 4 days off. This move is gonna be smooth like jazz.

thanks rebecca now all i'm thinking about is stuffed gnocchi with pesto from la gondola

So we didn’t have water for a couple of days at the barn. That was super. We do now. That’s more super.

Other things in the more super column:

earlier access than we expected to the new apartment
an outstanding stretch of weather
Glitter and Doom on vinyl
discussing wildly inappropriate and highly offensive topics
the beef tenderloin sandwich from Phil’s
finally getting to talk to Rebecca on the phone
random pictures of NOLA from my Dad
hanging out in the filthy barn with the kapteyn-dekkinga’s
drinking coffee in a nice shower
peter’s simultaneous joy and despair over the beginning of cleavage season
sleeping the sleep to end all sleeps

I just realized that last one sounds a little dark, but it’s actually referring to my most recent bout of being a bad sleeper. I’m confident tonight is the night I’ll be so tired I’ll have no choice but to sleep for a goodly amount of time.

Coming soon: The adventures of Peter and Erin babysitting Neal: the sequel

some days are just best left alone

This is what happened yesterday:

At 1:30am Tuesday morning I woke up with a sharp pain in the neck. I was up most of the night moaning to myself on the futon. I took fistfuls of ibuprofen throughout the day. Why, you might ask yourself, in the world did I bother going to work when clearly I was in substantial pain?

Carolina Chocolate Drops at the Ladies Lit Club, my friends.

A sold out, footstomping, handclapping good time was had by me. The cover of Blu Cantrell’s “Hit Em Up Style” was particularly amazing. It was the right show, in the right venue for this chicken.

One would think after such an awesome musical experience the day after would prove stellar. Unfortunately, this day was against me from the minute I was forced to open my eyes. There’s really nothing more to it than a general overall feeling of suckiness. In typical Erin fashion I also chose to handle this mood in the worst way possible: skip breakfast, skip coffee, and walk to work in the rain listening to Bon Iver.

Many thanks to Peter for bringing me leftover chinaman food just because he knew I’d need it.

He was right. I did.

down but not out

I'm sick. One of those sicks that makes you want to crawl into bed and not get out until you feel better. A sick that makes you feel dizzy and woozy and like passing out if you move too quickly. A sick sick. Unfortunately I have no choice but to be here as my partner in overdue crime is on vacation until Wednesday. I'm just gonna have to suck it up and get 'er done.

It's officially official: we're moving April 1. Technically we're hoping to move March 28. Or April 3. As no one can help anyone move on a Thursday. I'll miss the barn. I really will. That place is so unique and we had some really good times there, but it is time to move on. Time to have a bathroom that is all in one room. Time to have a full size stove. Time to have space for 4 people to sit around a table and enjoy a meal together. Time for Erin to have some freedom to go places and do things when the car isn't available.

It's just time.

I've been a cooking fiend lately. Soba with spicy sauce and tofu, chicken and dumplings, and chocolate chip bars. I also ate sardines for the first time (delicious on rye crisps with spicy mustard) and tried menudo Saturday night (the tripe had a way better texture than I expected-kind of melt-in-your-mouthy and then a little...rubbery. But anyone who likes calamari should have no trouble with tripe) I told Peter we should spend the next month trying to eat out of our pantry and freezer as much as possible so we don't have to move stuff. I foresee lots of lentils, beans, oatmeal, and bread.

Today: go get spicy thai food for lunch, survive the afternoon at work, go home to some bean soup, comfort Peter as he's sick too and suspects he's dying, and be asleep by 9:30pm.