it's a whopper

I'm sick. My head is completely stuffed up. I am out of Kleenex and being forced to use toilet paper which means my nose is hurty.

I also can't taste anything which has made prep for the goose tomorrow super awesome. I made veggie stock that could be completely under seasoned. I have a roasted squash and sweet potato soup that may have too much smoked paprika but I wouldn't know because I can't taste anything. I braised green cabbage which probably made my apartment stinky, but I can't tell because I can't smell anything. I also washed about 8000 spoons because I was so concerned about contaminating any of the food with my illness. The only food I've actually consumed today is chicken noodle soup. From a can. Which tasted just fine because I couldn't $%#!& taste anything.

To say this is a bummer is an understatement.

Still to do tonight:

roast beets

contemplate applesauce

fyi

I am in Vermont. Tonight I went to One Federal which is like Butch's only with what appears to be a way more interesting menu. And better beer on tap. Which is weird because my hometown is a lot smaller than Holland. And I ran into people which I kind of thought would happen, but didn't expect to be people I cared about. Come to find out they were and I did.

After much soul searching I have decided Obama's tax deal is unforgivable. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about that.

True Grit was good, but not great.

Between the Star Wars and the Independence Day and the Back to the Future marathons, Spike TV has proven itself worthy.

Sometimes you do get to choose your family. My parents chose some amazing "aunts" and "uncles" and "cousins" for me years ago when they relocated to VT. I am forever blessed.

I miss Founders.

The Shedd beat Switchback and Long Trail as the most favorite Vermont beer.

I have $25 to spend at Pure Pop tomorrow thanks to my parents. Best.present.ever.

erin loses it

My lifestyle is clearly not sustainable.

Let me preface this by reassuring everyone that everything is now fine.

At 9:45 last night I stormed out of the house and went for a freezing cold winter walk (aside: let me once again thank Grandpa Berghoef for being mayor when snowmelt was introduced to our fine town. It is entirely possible to go for an angry walk a mere block from our apartment thanks to the beauty of snowmelt. Heated sidewalks, people. It is not a luxury). At the time I believed myself to be completely justified in storming out of the house because I had asked for some newspaper to be picked up for boxes-packing purposes and that had not been done. It was thought the number of plastic shopping bags (yeah, yeah we suck) we had lurking about would be sufficient. It may have been sufficient, but I had never packed with plastic grocery bags before and, contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually ship things across the country that often. In the process of attempting to use said substitute packing material, I convinced myself that this was actually a sexism issue. “Not only do I not have the proper materials to pack this box because someone obviously doesn’t care about me or my needs (because if they did I’d have mofo newspaper instead of these stupid useless plastic bags), I have not idea HOW to pack this box and yet, I’m expected to just magically figure out how to pack this box all by myself because I am a woman and women know how to do these things and you obviously feel this way else you’d be over here helping me figure out how to use these worthless fucking plastic bags I’m being forced to use (because you don’t care about me or my needs) instead of screwing around on the internet!”

Crazy Erin took over.

In my defense, I’d been averaging about 5ish hours of sleep a night for a few nights and had spent the previous night sleeping on the futon due to a miscommunication/snoring problem the previous night.

But honestly? Not a good excuse. Crazy irrational sleep deprived hand made Christmas Erin took over. And screamed. And stormed out of the house.

By the time I got home, the car was gone. I decided the best course of action was to ignore the pile of unpacked presents in the middle of the dining room and make some spiced nuts instead. A few minutes later, newspaper and a six pack of beer arrived. Apologies were made all around. And we packed the boxes.

Together.

one week from today i will be in the land of milk and honey

In the last 24 hours I have come up with the greatest hand made Christmas present for a specific person (I made my coworker cry when I told her what I was planning. It’s that good), I made and successfully canned my very first batch of strawberry jam, and I received the Amy Grant Christmas Album on vinyl as the big reveal gift from my Secret Santa who turned out to be none other than Kari. She kind of gave herself away with the first gift of a Diet Coke. Few people at work know my love of Diet Coke. She does.

It’s been a helluva day.

Meanwhile, my house looks like drunken, cracked out Christmas elves have been furiously at work. The ironing board has taken up permanent residence in the living room. There bits of red and green ribbon strewn about and red and green sharpies are underfoot. There is embroidery floss and yarn and piles of fabric everywhere. I keep forgetting then remembering things to do (must not forget gingerbread cake for Molly to be ready Monday-ACK! Need bottle of wine for work Secret Santa-DANG IT! WINDMILL COOKIES NEED TO BE MADE!) and am constantly making lists and losing them. I keep making trips to stores because I keep coming up with things I need that I don’t realize I need until I’m about to start a project.

I say it every year: next year I will start earlier.

Though in my defense, when inspiration strikes and it’s only a week out you just gotta get her done. One cannot force the perfect hand made gift. The perfect hand made gift happens.

Tonight: work, make another list I will inevitably lose, go home and try to attach a headboard to the bed, pack up the boxes to be shipped to VT, and keep working on what shall henceforth be referred to as the Perfect Gift.

who knew lesley gore was a lesbian?!?

Things that have recently come up in conversations* include:

Capitalism and the downfall of the American economy
Cars-dumbest idea ever
The politics of snow removal
Who needs fancy cookies when chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies taste so good?
The ethics of not disclosing the inclusion of chicken stock in what could otherwise be considered a vegetarian soup
Obama and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad tax deal
The moral implications of the episode of 7th Heaven entitled “Last call for Aunt Julie”
Organic vs Local = either way we win!
The uselessness of the internet
Belts: more than a fashion accessory
Where to find anchovy stuffed olives in Holland

*conversations may refer to conversations in my head.
not with other people. just so we’re all clear how crazy I am.

lake effect snow event in progress

You know when you’re kneading bread and your arms ache and you start questioning the sanity of bothering to make home made bread and then you can feel the dough shift to that perfect elastic and sweaty texture and you can smell that amazing yeasty smell and you know you’re about to make a really special loaf of bread?

That happened to me. Yesterday.

I’m sick of paying for substandard bread at the grocery store. I’m also sick of paying $4.50 a loaf from Pereddies. And, huge surprise, I find I really love the process of making bread from proofing the yeast to kneading to finding the perfect place for it to rise to baking. This spring I briefly got into the whole healthy-bread-in-15-minutes-a-day thing and though I enjoyed the idea of making my own bread it just didn’t taste very good nor was I crazy about the texture. The loaves I’ve been making are good. They taste like, well, bread. Good crumb and good crust and good flavor. Next up I’d like to find a decent whole wheat sandwich bread because not having to buy ick bread from Meijer ever again would be sublime.

I also made blueberry muffins compliments of the Smitten Kitchen. And shepherd’s pie. And Friday night we had cassoulet. It was a weekend of delicious eating.

Another hand made Christmas gift was finished yesterday! And by “finished” I mean I still need to figure out how I’m going to FINISH it, but the main work is done. I have a couple more big-ish projects to finish that I’d like to do this weekend so I can start shipping things to Vermont next week.

Because we’re going to be in Vermont in a little over 2 weeks.

!!!!!

That makes me happier than baking home made bread on a Sunday.