Free to good home. Can make pie.

It's a beautiful beautiful beautiful day here in Portlandia. I didn't have to work, and I'm listening to Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. They're amazing.  It's making for quite the relaxing early evening.  

I made a strawberry-apple pie yesterday. I'd never had one before, but always thought the idea sounded 
super tasty.  And boy is it!  Yum! It even looked pretty when fresh from the oven. (The lighting looks funny in this picture because, well the lighting in our kitchen is wack. No lie.) Also, it only looks like it magically was more cooked in the middle than the edges because of the cinnamon-sugar topping (what a brilliant idea!) not because I am some crazy non-adept cook.  If there is one thing in life that I can do well it is make a pie.  True story.  I used to make pie all the time.  My parents have a pie cherry tree in their back yard and every summer I'd make cherry pies for all sorts of occasions. They were tasty-good, and it seemed I had a magic hand with the pie crust.  Wish I could tell you my "secret" but I don't have one, except maybe to make sure the water you use in the crust is ice cold.  I always put ice cubes in to chill the water before mixing it all together.  But I didn't make this crust, I bought it from the store. Am super lazy about cooking now, and I don't have a food processor, which is an essential part of making pie crust.  It doesn't taste as good, but whatev.  It tastes better than the last kind of pie crust I bought from the store, for the strawberry-rhubarb pie I made over Memorial Day Weekend.  My parents were in town and I made them a pie.  They said the pie was tasty, and that they'd find me a husband yet.  My dad said he'd make a sign or put an ad in the paper: "Free to good home. Can make pie." 

And then Chris threw away my favorite pie tin. 

Favorite pie tin. Who knew I'd become so domestic?  In other news on the domesticity front, I believe I may have found us all a new place to live. I'm super excited for it so I'm not going to jinx it by talking too much.  But yay!

Also, I've been (slowly) working away at the projects that are stacked in my crocheting basket.  There's Momma's Market Bag, Erin's Boston Blanket, and Dawn's Nugget Snuggler.  The "nugget snuggler" is not, sadly, another man thong, but a baby blanket.  It's the baby blanket who's cute a button granny squares are right next to this paragraph.  The baby is a girl, obviously. I'm enjoying the craftiness, and the soothing thinking that it allows.  Well, for most of it.  For these granny squares I'm using a nobbly cotton thread and a teeny-tiny (size D) hook.  It takes quite a bit of concentration.  But no fear, I have 19 out of 54 done.  Sigh.  Good thing I have several road trips planned back to Moscow, and I find crocheting makes time in the car go by quite quickly.  And you feel productive.  And I like feeling productive.  I always get a little antsy if I'm not doing something.  It doesn't have to be anything important, just something with my hands or mind or whatever. Thus plane rides and car trips and days spent doing nothing but lying in bed tend to kill me. 

But that's not necessarily true.  Sometimes a day spent in bed is exactly what you need. Take, for example, this past Mother's Day.  We didn't get out of bed until almost 2 o'clock in the afternoon.  It was wonderful.  And then we went to a crazy movie.  But I don't know what I was expecting, Roman Polanski directed it.  

So this has been a long and rambly post about nothing.  Gee interweb, it's almost like we sat down and had a mojito.

1 comment:

Carla said...

I like mojitos.