Lettuce.
In case you are wondering, that is what we are getting in this year's harvest. The weather this spring must have been super great for lettuce, and it really looks wonderful. We have had delicious, perfect heads of both red and green leaf lettuce, each week. Most weeks, we have gotten two heads, supplemented by as much as 3/4 of a pound of a lettuce mix. For those unaware - 3/4 pounds of lettuce fills a plastic grocery shopping bag nearly all the way.
We have gotten other things - radishes, blueberries, red raspberries, carrots, cucumbers, summer squash, kale, rainbow chard, and scallions to name a few - but I have been successfully using each if these items before the next pick up.
I am way behind on the lettuce. I finally managed to prep and tear up the last head of green leaf from last week's pick up. Not actually use it, just prep it.
The current google search typed into my list is "lettuce uses" because I just can't get excited for salads. I pack lettuce in my lunch box, and plan to have a large salad as the dinner meal. But when it comes time to eat, I have routinely decided a take out burrito or large sub would be a more satisfying choice.
Unfortunately, my google search wasn't overly successful. I found recipes for "lettuce soup", "brasied lettuce with peas and onions" (cooked chunks of lettuce), "braised zucchini and lettuce tart with tapenade", and "Asian chicken lettuce wraps".
Lettuce soup sounds disgusting, and I thought the brasied lettuce had potential until I realized it would be cooked until mushy. I guess I will make the lettuce wraps and endure the comments from my peanut gallery suggesting that fried won-tons would be better. I would not disagree, but would pretend I did, so Shhhh!
I guess I will have to stick to salads...
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Do You Believe In Magic?
I learned a new trick today - but first, the Event:
Yesterday's Event was the Annual City Sand Competition, which I have participated in since 2009. It seems to occur each year during a time when my little blog goes on unexpected hiatus (aka writers block), so I guess the last time I wrote about it was here. This year's theme was "A Day at the Races" which was chosen because Baltimore was selected to host a Grand Prix Race on Labor Day. It does seem like a cool idea to race these fast cars through a city as a racetrack, but I will probably watch on the local news as I can only imagine the traffic and crowding will be unpleasant to say the least. We did a model called "Gridlock" which depicts the downtown area (with some artistic license) with the race track twisting and turning throughout.
My personal favorite was this one, depicting a "Baltimore Hon" driving a race car. (You non-Baltimoreans probably don't know what this is...think "Hairspray" and check out the section on this Wikipedia page.)
The competition winner was this one, which was a bit too abstract and artsy for my taste, but this is what you will have when architects start making things out of sand. (It is called "Horsepower.")
He accompanied me to the machine, and used his key to open the door and get my card out. It took about 13 minutes to restart the machine and for a minute there, it said it was out of service and I thought I took out the whole garage payment system. But it restarted, and he pulled a token from his pocket to test it out. I looked at it, wondering if I would seriously stoop to stealing the thing to get out, and, if so, would I successfully not get any dents in my car?
"Drive around front," he said, putting the token back in his pocket. He met me at the gate, then told me he had talked to the manager, who said I could pay the $3 parking fee to get out. I bit my tongue on the fact that I had actually already paid that, and told him thank you. Unfortunately, as I was not truly angry at him, I may have seemed ungrateful and still angry. That freakin' token was still gone! I also bit my tongue when he told me, for future reference, that the policy is to pay $17 for a lost token. Oh! Really? So I shouldn't lose the token? Oh, ok, no problem. Had I only known before, that losing the token was bad, I'd have saved myself a lot of trouble!
Instead, I sighed. He was doing me a favor. Which I did not deserve. I said, "I am sorry for the trouble I have caused you," and drove away.
And there you have it: The Disappearing Token Trick, also known as, "The Trick to Paying As Much as Possible for Parking". Though I am even better at this in Hoboken. What can I say? It is a gift.
Yesterday's Event was the Annual City Sand Competition, which I have participated in since 2009. It seems to occur each year during a time when my little blog goes on unexpected hiatus (aka writers block), so I guess the last time I wrote about it was here. This year's theme was "A Day at the Races" which was chosen because Baltimore was selected to host a Grand Prix Race on Labor Day. It does seem like a cool idea to race these fast cars through a city as a racetrack, but I will probably watch on the local news as I can only imagine the traffic and crowding will be unpleasant to say the least. We did a model called "Gridlock" which depicts the downtown area (with some artistic license) with the race track twisting and turning throughout.
My personal favorite was this one, depicting a "Baltimore Hon" driving a race car. (You non-Baltimoreans probably don't know what this is...think "Hairspray" and check out the section on this Wikipedia page.)
The competition winner was this one, which was a bit too abstract and artsy for my taste, but this is what you will have when architects start making things out of sand. (It is called "Horsepower.")
OK, so that's the Event. Now for the trick. As anyone living near a city will know, parking in the touristy areas is a nightmare, and most of us locals have devised alternate means for parking. The goal, of course, is to park for free or very little moolah, without getting ticketed or towed. Now that I have been to Hoboken, NJ, I will also add "Being Booted" to that list.
If I am going to the city for a short time, I occasionally use the validation policy of a local business to park for free. For instance, there is a bakery in Little Italy that will validate for up to three hours, and all you need to do is buy an Italian gelatto. I am all in favor of buying a dessert anyway, so it is win-win. Whole Foods has a similar policy, so as long as you do not object to paying $6 for a loaf of bread (incidentally this is the cheapest thing available at Whole Foods), you are good to go.
For the sand competition, which required parking for about 7 hours, I chose a slightly further away parking garage that only charges $3 a day on weekends. Triumphantly, I walked back to the garage and placed the yellow plastic chip into the machine, and paid my $3. I got a second chip and receipt, then walked to my car, which is visible from the machine. I sleepily opened my trunk and loaded up my bucket and various other sand sculpting gear, then performed the "Disappearing Chip Trick".
(?)
I had NO IDEA where the chip was. I got out of the car, and re-searched the trunk. I looked through my cooler, and all of its pouches. I checked the bucket, I moved around some of the other random items.
The last place I saw the chip was in my left hand. I was searching along the bottom of the cooler for my keys, and I found them at the bottom. So the cooler was the logical choice. I tore that sucker apart, and then sighed.
Well, I still had the receipt, which clearly stated that approximately 4 minutes prior, I had a chip, and I paid my parking fee. Maybe, just maybe, I reasoned, if I slide my credit card at the exit, the machine would know that I had paid and would graciously allow me to leave.
I know, people, I know. But I was tired and covered in sand.
When this plan did not work, I checked the office for a parking garage employee, and I actually found one there. I showed him my paperwork, and he explained that the fee for a lost token was $17, because the tokens cost them $14 each.
With a huge sigh, I tell him I will have to pay the $14 fee. He says, no, it is $17. But I had already paid three. Feeling extremely foolish, I tried to justify that I should not have to pay $17 for a lost token fee, because I had kept my original token for 7 hours, and lost the new one in 7 seconds. For crying out loud it was probably RIGHT there on the floor!
He refuses to accept this argument, says he has no way to charge me any random amount, and I will have to pay $17 more. I got the manager's name and card, thinking I would have to take up this argument later. I just wanted to get out of the freakin' garage. I tried (unsuccessfully) to console myself knowing that I would have paid $20 for parking anyway, had I parked closer to the venue.
I returned to the car with the thought that Yellow Tokens Do Not Magically Disappear. This thing exists. And I would not let it beat me. I said before that I tore my cooler apart. This time I mean, I TORE that sucker apart! I took out every article in that trunk and shook it, trying to find that stupid plastic coin. Meanwhile, I was alternately trying not to laugh at myself - only I could pay $20 to park in a $3 garage - and cry - how? how could I be so freakin' irresponsible?? How could this thing just vanish into thin air? My very sense of reality was being challenged by a STUPID PLASTIC TOKEN!!
I backed the car through the garage (safely) to the original spot. I tried this plan that "We Who Lose Things Often" know. (By the way, I do not lose things often anymore. I thought I had solved this problem.) It's called "Brother Find Its Brother" and essentially you try to re-create the Incident. You drop the same item in the same spot, only this time, you watch it roll and see where it goes. It actually works pretty well, though on rare occasions you will lose two items instead of one.
I did not have another plastic coin, so I decided on one of those metal ones made by the government. I went back to the spot (now taken by another car, which was still warm and making all those clinky noises that cars will do when recently parked). I dropped the nickel, and it went - nowhere. I had thought it might roll down the ramp, or bounce spectacularly. But, no. I tried again and again with the same results. I dropped the nickel and it landed - right there. Let me tell you, this was very frustrating.
I looked at my phone - I had been in the garage for 45 minutes. Searching. For the Disappearing Token.
Muttering various expletives under my breath, I went to the machine and pressed the "Lost Ticket" button. "Please press the help button for assistance", it says. There is no help button. I pressed the button again, perhaps harder than strictly necessary, and also called the phone line to speak to a person, which rang and rang with no answer. These steps were repeated until I got my card stuck in the machine. For future reference, forcing a machine to do something is a pretty futile effort.
I showed up again at the attendant's door and told him my card was stuck in the machine. He asked why I was using the machine, and I told him, because I can't find the token and I have to pay the $17 to get out. I tried not to be angry with him, because he wasn't the jackass that lost a token in less time than it takes to blow ones nose. But I was angry about the injustice of the world.
He says that the machine doesn't work for that, and I was to pay up front when I forgot a ticket. Well, it doesn't say that on the machine. The machine has a button for "Lost Ticket". This seemed like information which could have been more clearly stated the last time I was in here, trying to get him to refund my $3 so I could go pay $17. He sighed.
He accompanied me to the machine, and used his key to open the door and get my card out. It took about 13 minutes to restart the machine and for a minute there, it said it was out of service and I thought I took out the whole garage payment system. But it restarted, and he pulled a token from his pocket to test it out. I looked at it, wondering if I would seriously stoop to stealing the thing to get out, and, if so, would I successfully not get any dents in my car?
"Drive around front," he said, putting the token back in his pocket. He met me at the gate, then told me he had talked to the manager, who said I could pay the $3 parking fee to get out. I bit my tongue on the fact that I had actually already paid that, and told him thank you. Unfortunately, as I was not truly angry at him, I may have seemed ungrateful and still angry. That freakin' token was still gone! I also bit my tongue when he told me, for future reference, that the policy is to pay $17 for a lost token. Oh! Really? So I shouldn't lose the token? Oh, ok, no problem. Had I only known before, that losing the token was bad, I'd have saved myself a lot of trouble!
Instead, I sighed. He was doing me a favor. Which I did not deserve. I said, "I am sorry for the trouble I have caused you," and drove away.
And there you have it: The Disappearing Token Trick, also known as, "The Trick to Paying As Much as Possible for Parking". Though I am even better at this in Hoboken. What can I say? It is a gift.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Phishtisical Improbability
Suppose there is a Phish Show near your home theater. Your "Home Theater" is the one closest to your house, and really any theater within a two hour radius. As a younger person, my home theaters were in PA - Hershey or State College or Pittsburgh, and NJ - Camden (which is just outside of Philly). Now, my home theater centers around Baltimore, so we have the Merriweather Post Pavilion in Columbia, MD, followed by the Philadelphia area venues. At your "Home Theater" you are more likely to randomly run into someone you know, and you are increasingly less likely to meet an acquaintance at a show that is further away. So let's say, for arguments sake, that you know 1% of the population at your "next of kin" home theater. Out of 25,000 people at the Show, you know 250 of them. But, at your "extended family" theater, you know, like, half that many. Say 125.
Narrowing further, there are only 12,500 seats under the pavilion, so you might know as many as 62.5 of those people. (I always feel bad for that extra fraction of a person...) Anyway, the odds of you sitting RIGHT NEXT to someone you know, without any pre-meditated planning, according to my calculations, is about 0.000000002. It's like one in a billion. Or one in a billion billion. (Full disclosure: I actually got a D in Statistics. Eh.) The point is, it's statistically unlikely (I am like 70 percent sure) that you would be assigned a seat in a show of thousands, next to a person you know. But that is what happened at Phish Show #1.
Phish Show #2 was the normal, enjoyable experience of a typical show, with nothing more statistically amazing than my normal ability to telepathically connect with the band and tell them what song to play. We danced in the lawn with the rest of the sweaty hippies, and at one point I caught a glow stick with a cup of beer, because I had two beers and was unable to deflect the glow.
Phish Show #3? We didn't get Lawn Seats. We didn't get section 200 tiered seats. We didn't even get section 100, front row seats. We got "General Admission Pit". Yes, after a combined 65 shows, Adam and I were selected at random to be in the pit with 150 of our closest friends. (I am 80 percent sure that getting into the pit is statistically less likely than sitting next to a person you know.) It was amazing to be close enough to the band to practically look up their noses. Alas, I feared for my camera and didn't bring it inside. I did have my phone, and I proceeded to take some low resolution crappy pics:
Y'all may not appreciate this, but seriously, go out there with a camera that does not zoom or flash, and just try to get something decent. Only then will you understand how freakishly close to the front we had to be. Also the show was super. Who needs music videos when you can get the real thing??
Last, but not least, the odds that I would remember my phone, get service to the phone in a crowd of thousands, AND have enough battery power to take 25 pictures? It's not just improbable, it's damn near impossible. One in a billion trillion.
Excuse me while I go to play the lottery.
Narrowing further, there are only 12,500 seats under the pavilion, so you might know as many as 62.5 of those people. (I always feel bad for that extra fraction of a person...) Anyway, the odds of you sitting RIGHT NEXT to someone you know, without any pre-meditated planning, according to my calculations, is about 0.000000002. It's like one in a billion. Or one in a billion billion. (Full disclosure: I actually got a D in Statistics. Eh.) The point is, it's statistically unlikely (I am like 70 percent sure) that you would be assigned a seat in a show of thousands, next to a person you know. But that is what happened at Phish Show #1.
Phish Show #2 was the normal, enjoyable experience of a typical show, with nothing more statistically amazing than my normal ability to telepathically connect with the band and tell them what song to play. We danced in the lawn with the rest of the sweaty hippies, and at one point I caught a glow stick with a cup of beer, because I had two beers and was unable to deflect the glow.
Phish Show #3? We didn't get Lawn Seats. We didn't get section 200 tiered seats. We didn't even get section 100, front row seats. We got "General Admission Pit". Yes, after a combined 65 shows, Adam and I were selected at random to be in the pit with 150 of our closest friends. (I am 80 percent sure that getting into the pit is statistically less likely than sitting next to a person you know.) It was amazing to be close enough to the band to practically look up their noses. Alas, I feared for my camera and didn't bring it inside. I did have my phone, and I proceeded to take some low resolution crappy pics:
Y'all may not appreciate this, but seriously, go out there with a camera that does not zoom or flash, and just try to get something decent. Only then will you understand how freakishly close to the front we had to be. Also the show was super. Who needs music videos when you can get the real thing??
Last, but not least, the odds that I would remember my phone, get service to the phone in a crowd of thousands, AND have enough battery power to take 25 pictures? It's not just improbable, it's damn near impossible. One in a billion trillion.
Excuse me while I go to play the lottery.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The Cool TV
I was extremely, inexcusably, deprived as a child.
I don't like to talk about it much...
....but....
(deep breath)
you see, um,
well, I'll just come out and say it.
We did not get cable.
There, I said it.
We did not get cable.
"You Can't Do that on Television"? Wha...?
"H - B - O??" What's that stand for?
"Nickelodeon"? You say? Are you yodeling?
The worst? (Even bigger breath): We did not get M-TV.
Oh, how much better my life would have been if I could have watched M-TV. My friends, one by one, got cable. My freakin' grandparents had cable. The cable man came to the house and asked my parents, if they installed the line in our rural area, would we buy it? Yes! Yes! I told the man. Even if we ONLY get M-TV, we will buy it. But for some reason, he wanted only to talk to my mother.
When we went to my grandparents house, I watched M-TV the ENTIRE time. This was back when they had these things called "music videos". They were super cool. I have very distinct snippets of knowledge of these videos. Like, I have only seen videos from the times I was visiting, but I saw them about 70 times. For instance, in the summer of 1987, Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" featured Whitney with a long blond wig (crimped of course). Also popular that summer: the Grateful Dead's "Touch of Grey", George Micheal's "You Gotta Have Faith", Paula Abdul with some cartoon cat.
One Christmas, I am thinking circa 1990, we had Guns and Roses "November Rain" (oh Slash! You were SO cool!); and Tom Petty's "Last Dance with Mary Jane".
(And for the record, I could have looked these up on the internet to see if memory serves me, but I didn't.)
So you get the idea.
Now, ironically, we still do not get cable, and my parents have a satellite dish because those cable guys never did install the lines. I might consider cable if M-TV still played music videos. But alas....there is no chance to make up for a deprived childhood.
Or is there? (she says with one eyebrow raised)
We now get a number of digital antenna channels, and most intriguing are the second or third string programs. Our Fox network is channel 45-1. On 45-2, there are usually re-runs of recent Fox programs, and 45-3 plays nothing but country music videos. Weird, right? There is also a channel that plays old bizarro movies, primarily from the 70's and 80's. And there is also "The Cool TV" on the CW 54-2 network.
The Cool TV. Just Music.
They play old concerts from the 70's and 80's, old obscure punk and rap videos, old pop videos (my fave!). They even play new videos - bet you didn't even know people still made them!
So I guess I can reclaim some of my lost childhood. I hope Slash comes on soon!
I don't like to talk about it much...
....but....
(deep breath)
you see, um,
well, I'll just come out and say it.
We did not get cable.
There, I said it.
We did not get cable.
"You Can't Do that on Television"? Wha...?
"H - B - O??" What's that stand for?
"Nickelodeon"? You say? Are you yodeling?
The worst? (Even bigger breath): We did not get M-TV.
Oh, how much better my life would have been if I could have watched M-TV. My friends, one by one, got cable. My freakin' grandparents had cable. The cable man came to the house and asked my parents, if they installed the line in our rural area, would we buy it? Yes! Yes! I told the man. Even if we ONLY get M-TV, we will buy it. But for some reason, he wanted only to talk to my mother.
When we went to my grandparents house, I watched M-TV the ENTIRE time. This was back when they had these things called "music videos". They were super cool. I have very distinct snippets of knowledge of these videos. Like, I have only seen videos from the times I was visiting, but I saw them about 70 times. For instance, in the summer of 1987, Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" featured Whitney with a long blond wig (crimped of course). Also popular that summer: the Grateful Dead's "Touch of Grey", George Micheal's "You Gotta Have Faith", Paula Abdul with some cartoon cat.
One Christmas, I am thinking circa 1990, we had Guns and Roses "November Rain" (oh Slash! You were SO cool!); and Tom Petty's "Last Dance with Mary Jane".
(And for the record, I could have looked these up on the internet to see if memory serves me, but I didn't.)
So you get the idea.
Now, ironically, we still do not get cable, and my parents have a satellite dish because those cable guys never did install the lines. I might consider cable if M-TV still played music videos. But alas....there is no chance to make up for a deprived childhood.
Or is there? (she says with one eyebrow raised)
We now get a number of digital antenna channels, and most intriguing are the second or third string programs. Our Fox network is channel 45-1. On 45-2, there are usually re-runs of recent Fox programs, and 45-3 plays nothing but country music videos. Weird, right? There is also a channel that plays old bizarro movies, primarily from the 70's and 80's. And there is also "The Cool TV" on the CW 54-2 network.
The Cool TV. Just Music.
They play old concerts from the 70's and 80's, old obscure punk and rap videos, old pop videos (my fave!). They even play new videos - bet you didn't even know people still made them!
So I guess I can reclaim some of my lost childhood. I hope Slash comes on soon!
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Strawberry Fields Forever
The Farm is back! For those who were reading last year, you may remember that I promised to tell you about the great fresh veggies and post recipes for everything I got in a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program. Yeah...sorry about that. Really though, recipes are abundant online, so I probably won't post those. I may occasionally add a link if I find something super fantastic.
First, a little about CSA's, in case you ain't never heard of 'em:
This is becoming popular in the US as people become more cognizant of where their food comes from, and thankfully, people like Tom and Sarah at Flying Plow Farm have the entrepreneurial spirit to go out there and, well, farm. The business model is that people pay in the fall or winter for a share of the farm's crops, to be delivered or picked up weekly during the summer. This gives the farmers the capital needed to sow the fields, and it also gives them some assurance of their income for the year, regardless of how well their crops grow or sell. The "investors" get a huge amount of fresh produce, usually picked the day of pick up, that is organic and locally grown. It's win-win - because there is no major transport or packaging for the produce, there is less of an environmental impact, and the veggies taste better, are more nutritious, and help small local businessmen (aka "farmers") compete with the huge farm corporations. The shares run a bit more than you might normally spend on produce, but not much. I paid $450 for my half share, which is good for 2-3 people, and I have easily gotten $25 worth of produce each week until Thanksgiving. It worked out to about $30 a week. Most farmers are actually willing to negotiate on the price, I've heard. So if you can't afford a CSA, talk to the farmer and see if you might be able to work in the fields a bit or pay in smaller increments.
So.
As I was saying, the farm is back, and unlike last year, I hope to maintain the blog often enough to tell y'all more about it. This week, I picked up red leaf lettuce, baby spinach, "yukina savoy" (a leafy green similar to spinach), kale, baby turnips (I am not a huge fan), bok choy (aka Chinese cabbage, and definitely a new favorite veggie), and strawberries. Strawberries were a "you-pick" item, which means I have to pick them myself, but I can pick as many as I want. Naturally, I picked only a sensible gallon. Just kidding!! I picked two gallons. Plus the quart I got as part of the normal share.
Let me just say: they are deeee-vine! I can't get enough of them! Each time I open the fridge, I pop a berry. I have had them for breakfast, as a side for lunch, on salad at dinner, as snacks in between, and for dessert. I thought of making a strawberry pie, but I really do not love strawberry pie. I prefer them plain, or on top of something. So I bought some ice cream today. Can't wait!
What else, pray tell, did I make this week, what with all my green-leafed veggies? Well, I learned last year, that the green leafies will be here for a few more weeks at least, and I learned quickly that leaf-centric meals are not generally crowd pleasers. I cannot, for instance, serve up a bit of cooked greens, tossed in olive oil and gently sauteed with a few choice spices. Even though this is a great way to serve greens, the man in my life will not even try it, and if he does, he will make "that face" which I reserve for strong rums, and look at me like, "See? I told you."
I find this very annoying.
But, I have successfully made meals that we both like, and used my greens. After a while, I realized you can just toss them in with whatever you were planning to cook. Maybe not a lot at a time, but chop them up fine, and throw them in with your casserole, spaghetti sauce, or stir fry, even put them on your pizza. If used correctly, your greens will silently add some nutrition to your man's diet, and he will only occasionally ask if you are trying to poison him. To which you will reply, oh yes, it was my plan all along to string you along and get you to move in with me, and eat my food, only to poison you with nutrients that do not happen to be found in beer and pizza.
Has anyone noticed that men are like toddlers?
Just an observation.
Anyway, I made stir fry with some marinated chicken, onions, carrots, the turnips (finely chopped as I do not love them) and bok choy. I made some pasta with kale and black beans, tossed with pesto I made last year and froze. I made spinach salad with strawberries and mandarin oranges. I plan to make salmon with a strawberry mango salsa, enchiladas with yukina savoy (basically a regular enchilada recipe with the greens tossed into the filling). Bok choy soup for my lunches, and kale and eggs with a side of strawberries for breakfasts. I also made some rice pudding for the first time, and it was so stinkin' easy! I plan to top it with strawberries!
And the best news?! I nearly smooshed a toad in the carport last night, and the strawberries in my own little patch have yielded two slug-free fruits! Yay!
First, a little about CSA's, in case you ain't never heard of 'em:
This is becoming popular in the US as people become more cognizant of where their food comes from, and thankfully, people like Tom and Sarah at Flying Plow Farm have the entrepreneurial spirit to go out there and, well, farm. The business model is that people pay in the fall or winter for a share of the farm's crops, to be delivered or picked up weekly during the summer. This gives the farmers the capital needed to sow the fields, and it also gives them some assurance of their income for the year, regardless of how well their crops grow or sell. The "investors" get a huge amount of fresh produce, usually picked the day of pick up, that is organic and locally grown. It's win-win - because there is no major transport or packaging for the produce, there is less of an environmental impact, and the veggies taste better, are more nutritious, and help small local businessmen (aka "farmers") compete with the huge farm corporations. The shares run a bit more than you might normally spend on produce, but not much. I paid $450 for my half share, which is good for 2-3 people, and I have easily gotten $25 worth of produce each week until Thanksgiving. It worked out to about $30 a week. Most farmers are actually willing to negotiate on the price, I've heard. So if you can't afford a CSA, talk to the farmer and see if you might be able to work in the fields a bit or pay in smaller increments.
So.
As I was saying, the farm is back, and unlike last year, I hope to maintain the blog often enough to tell y'all more about it. This week, I picked up red leaf lettuce, baby spinach, "yukina savoy" (a leafy green similar to spinach), kale, baby turnips (I am not a huge fan), bok choy (aka Chinese cabbage, and definitely a new favorite veggie), and strawberries. Strawberries were a "you-pick" item, which means I have to pick them myself, but I can pick as many as I want. Naturally, I picked only a sensible gallon. Just kidding!! I picked two gallons. Plus the quart I got as part of the normal share.
Let me just say: they are deeee-vine! I can't get enough of them! Each time I open the fridge, I pop a berry. I have had them for breakfast, as a side for lunch, on salad at dinner, as snacks in between, and for dessert. I thought of making a strawberry pie, but I really do not love strawberry pie. I prefer them plain, or on top of something. So I bought some ice cream today. Can't wait!
What else, pray tell, did I make this week, what with all my green-leafed veggies? Well, I learned last year, that the green leafies will be here for a few more weeks at least, and I learned quickly that leaf-centric meals are not generally crowd pleasers. I cannot, for instance, serve up a bit of cooked greens, tossed in olive oil and gently sauteed with a few choice spices. Even though this is a great way to serve greens, the man in my life will not even try it, and if he does, he will make "that face" which I reserve for strong rums, and look at me like, "See? I told you."
I find this very annoying.
But, I have successfully made meals that we both like, and used my greens. After a while, I realized you can just toss them in with whatever you were planning to cook. Maybe not a lot at a time, but chop them up fine, and throw them in with your casserole, spaghetti sauce, or stir fry, even put them on your pizza. If used correctly, your greens will silently add some nutrition to your man's diet, and he will only occasionally ask if you are trying to poison him. To which you will reply, oh yes, it was my plan all along to string you along and get you to move in with me, and eat my food, only to poison you with nutrients that do not happen to be found in beer and pizza.
Has anyone noticed that men are like toddlers?
Just an observation.
Anyway, I made stir fry with some marinated chicken, onions, carrots, the turnips (finely chopped as I do not love them) and bok choy. I made some pasta with kale and black beans, tossed with pesto I made last year and froze. I made spinach salad with strawberries and mandarin oranges. I plan to make salmon with a strawberry mango salsa, enchiladas with yukina savoy (basically a regular enchilada recipe with the greens tossed into the filling). Bok choy soup for my lunches, and kale and eggs with a side of strawberries for breakfasts. I also made some rice pudding for the first time, and it was so stinkin' easy! I plan to top it with strawberries!
And the best news?! I nearly smooshed a toad in the carport last night, and the strawberries in my own little patch have yielded two slug-free fruits! Yay!
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Junk
We all have them - the dreaded "junk drawers". In our house, the junk drawer was in the kitchen, next to the less junky stuff like pens and rubber bands. Though this drawer had degenerated into junk in it's own right, the true junk drawer contained things that one would never ever seek to retrieve...but for some reason, no one wanted to throw away.
The years went by, and half hearted attempts to rid the house of "the junk drawer" did surface from time to time. But what to do with these useless trinkets? They didn't "belong" anywhere. Or rather, if they did "belong" as in the case of small game pieces, it would take hours to locate all the games and deposit these pieces in their respective boxes. Nor was it appropriate to toss a game piece. Perhaps we would search out those pieces when we next played the game. In the meantime...into the junk drawer it returned.
Now we are all grown up and the games, if still in the house, await grandchildren to play with them. So my mother finally cleaned out the junk drawer. And she found our memories - drawer sized.
She made "the junk collage" with nothing more than a shadowbox and some glue:
Can you find...
...the house key that was replaced when I got home before my parents in the first grade, and decided to "break in" with a screwdriver?
The years went by, and half hearted attempts to rid the house of "the junk drawer" did surface from time to time. But what to do with these useless trinkets? They didn't "belong" anywhere. Or rather, if they did "belong" as in the case of small game pieces, it would take hours to locate all the games and deposit these pieces in their respective boxes. Nor was it appropriate to toss a game piece. Perhaps we would search out those pieces when we next played the game. In the meantime...into the junk drawer it returned.
Now we are all grown up and the games, if still in the house, await grandchildren to play with them. So my mother finally cleaned out the junk drawer. And she found our memories - drawer sized.
She made "the junk collage" with nothing more than a shadowbox and some glue:
Can you find...
...the house key that was replaced when I got home before my parents in the first grade, and decided to "break in" with a screwdriver?
...the newspaper clipping announcing the results of the Ugly Duckling Swim Team, mentioning both my sister and me?
...the swimming medal from one such race, likely brought home with great pride and lots of celebration?
...the red button from a red corduroy coat my mother wore for several years?
....the Rainbow Bright hairtie worn by my sister and me around the same time?
....the Rainbow Bright hairtie worn by my sister and me around the same time?
...the matches from Conneaut Lake Park, where our family visited for a "Dream Picnic" each year?
...the business cards and nametags for my father for Khols Building Products, Allied Building Products, and Weidenhammer Systems?
...the "It's Rad to be Plaid" button I was forced to wear in junior high, promoting Catholic schools? (note, this is obviously unworn)
...the game pieces from "Connect 4", "Memory", "Bedbugs", "Gears", "Monopoly", and "Hi-Ho-Cherry-O"?
...the rabies vaccination tags for one of our childhood dogs?
...the GATX magnet, from the train manufacturing company that employed my grandfather?
...the US Air keychain, from the company that employed my cousin?
...the Montgomery County Head Start exhibitor name tag, where my mother worked?
...the caterpillar magnet made by my sister in nursery school?
...the candle holder, from the days when my mother was regularly attending cake decorating class?
...the two cloth diaper pins, from the days when my mother was busy with other things?
...the Crayola crayon box, belonging to my mother when she was only dreaming of a family? (not sure how this came to be in the junk drawer...)
...the food stamp?
...the jack?
...the ballet slipper pin (mine from age 5), the I Heart Bears pin, the Strawberry Shortcake pin, and the Girl Scout pin?
...the Girl Scout Troop number patch?
...the Tulpehocken Soccer Club patch?
...Barbie's spoon and hair dryer, and a goblet she likely used, but was not likely "official Mattel craftsmanship"?
...the Cracker Jacks prize featuring a baseball player?
...the Transformer from a cereal box, likely given to my brother but probably stolen because it would not be likely he would be deemed worthy of the cereal box prize?
...the birthday candle, and the cake insert featuring 101 Dalmations' "Lucky the Dog"?
...the Little Wooden Boy that invokes no memory in me?
...the Smurfs shoestring I wore in kindergarten, or the beaded bracelet I made in junior high?
...the magnet indicating it was Tiff's Turn to do the dishes? - she was always hiding it and replacing it with "Nicole's Turn"!
...the Penn State keychain, and the "Penn State: We Call It Home" pin?
...the coin wrapper for quarters, left over from the days when my dad had us sort all his change and separate out the "special year" coins?
...the beer cap?
...the letter "A" magnet which hung in its heyday on the fridge with 25 other letters?
...the Easter egg dye kit "dipper"?
...the tickets for Cirque du Soleil, given to my mother for mothers day?
...the Strawberry Shortcake protractor?
...the seashell from one of our Florida vacations?
...the candle from Quaker Steak and Lube in Sharon, PA?
...Did I miss anything?
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Obsession
My loyal Constant Readers may remember my angst when deciding to move to a house with bathroom tiles the color of Easter eggs. For the rest of you, have a look at this:
It is my original purple bathroom, complete with a cushy toilet seat donning embroidered pink and purple butterflies. This bathroom is also the size of a tiny closet, and has only a three inch deep medicine cabinet for storage.
Before moving in, I was consumed (obsessed) with this bathroom. Ripping out the tile was not possible on our budget and level of expertise, so I had to settle for finding the perfect paint and the ideal accessories to modernize this hideous pastel.
I decided black was the best bet and I went a-searchin for a shower curtain. I spent approximately seven hours one Saturday, going to K-Mart, Wal-Mart, Target, and all the home stores in the mall, including Macy's (they had a sale and were only charging a leg that day.)
Seven hours.
Let that just sink in for a minute.
Seven.
OK, so I decided upon a so-so shower curtain, mostly black, but with some gray highlights. I went home, slightly elated, but not overly happy with my purchase.
The next day, I began a search for The Perfect Curtains, and found The Perfect Shower Curtain at Khols in approximately 30 seconds. Why was I even in the bathroom department?
Anyway, The Perfect Shower Curtain was white with yellow flowers. The flowers had black stems, and the center of the flowers were pastel purple that actually matched my tile. The curtain sold for $60, the matching towels and bath mat were equally overpriced, as were the trash can, soap dish, and toothbrush holder. I had already hung the not so perfect shower curtain, so I would not be able to return it. I called my brother, who was also moving to a new place, so see if he would take it. Unfortunately, my other sister had already hooked him up with a coordinated yet manly ensemble of blues, greens, and browns.
I could not justify replacing the curtain I had owned for one day with The Perfect (but expensive) Shower Curtain. I did purchase some towels and the bathmat.
I find myself in the bathroom aisles of stores every time I go.
(Obsession)
I never found gray towels when searching specifically for them, and now they are everywhere. Black, too.
(Obsession)
I have found shower curtains and themed wastepaper baskets that would look great in each of my pastel bathrooms, numerous times over.
(Obsession)
I finally broke down and bought a similar shower curtain to "The Perfect One" when I needed a new bath mat. The mat with the flowers looked nice in the store but it looked disgusting when it was wet. I would clean it with a vacuum, and even ran it through the washing machine, but it always looked gross. I grew tired of stepping on it with my bare feet on a daily basis.
I got a black bath mat, and a white shower curtain with black and gray swirls on it. It's pretty. I decided I would hang it when the current curtain became yucky, and tucked it away. I hoped this would cure me.
(Obsession)
Two weeks ago, I found the soap dispenser in the purple bathroom in the sink, with a hole where Adam had dropped it. Yay!! Time to get a new one! And a trash can to match!
(Obsession)
The new can and soap holder were in place before he even got out of the shower. I thanked him for breaking the old one and invited him to break as much bathroom stuff as he liked.* (Next up - the toilet bowl brush holder...)
(Obsession)
In the back of my mind, I knew I should have bit the bullet and bought The Perfect Curtain back on that fateful day. Maybe this was the reason I was drawn to bathroom accessories But shower curtain stock seems to rotate, and I never saw that curtain again. Until....last weekend! Yay!
It is my original purple bathroom, complete with a cushy toilet seat donning embroidered pink and purple butterflies. This bathroom is also the size of a tiny closet, and has only a three inch deep medicine cabinet for storage.
Before moving in, I was consumed (obsessed) with this bathroom. Ripping out the tile was not possible on our budget and level of expertise, so I had to settle for finding the perfect paint and the ideal accessories to modernize this hideous pastel.
I decided black was the best bet and I went a-searchin for a shower curtain. I spent approximately seven hours one Saturday, going to K-Mart, Wal-Mart, Target, and all the home stores in the mall, including Macy's (they had a sale and were only charging a leg that day.)
Seven hours.
Let that just sink in for a minute.
Seven.
OK, so I decided upon a so-so shower curtain, mostly black, but with some gray highlights. I went home, slightly elated, but not overly happy with my purchase.
The next day, I began a search for The Perfect Curtains, and found The Perfect Shower Curtain at Khols in approximately 30 seconds. Why was I even in the bathroom department?
Anyway, The Perfect Shower Curtain was white with yellow flowers. The flowers had black stems, and the center of the flowers were pastel purple that actually matched my tile. The curtain sold for $60, the matching towels and bath mat were equally overpriced, as were the trash can, soap dish, and toothbrush holder. I had already hung the not so perfect shower curtain, so I would not be able to return it. I called my brother, who was also moving to a new place, so see if he would take it. Unfortunately, my other sister had already hooked him up with a coordinated yet manly ensemble of blues, greens, and browns.
I could not justify replacing the curtain I had owned for one day with The Perfect (but expensive) Shower Curtain. I did purchase some towels and the bathmat.
I find myself in the bathroom aisles of stores every time I go.
(Obsession)
I never found gray towels when searching specifically for them, and now they are everywhere. Black, too.
(Obsession)
I have found shower curtains and themed wastepaper baskets that would look great in each of my pastel bathrooms, numerous times over.
(Obsession)
I finally broke down and bought a similar shower curtain to "The Perfect One" when I needed a new bath mat. The mat with the flowers looked nice in the store but it looked disgusting when it was wet. I would clean it with a vacuum, and even ran it through the washing machine, but it always looked gross. I grew tired of stepping on it with my bare feet on a daily basis.
I got a black bath mat, and a white shower curtain with black and gray swirls on it. It's pretty. I decided I would hang it when the current curtain became yucky, and tucked it away. I hoped this would cure me.
(Obsession)
Two weeks ago, I found the soap dispenser in the purple bathroom in the sink, with a hole where Adam had dropped it. Yay!! Time to get a new one! And a trash can to match!
(Obsession)
The new can and soap holder were in place before he even got out of the shower. I thanked him for breaking the old one and invited him to break as much bathroom stuff as he liked.* (Next up - the toilet bowl brush holder...)
(Obsession)
In the back of my mind, I knew I should have bit the bullet and bought The Perfect Curtain back on that fateful day. Maybe this was the reason I was drawn to bathroom accessories But shower curtain stock seems to rotate, and I never saw that curtain again. Until....last weekend! Yay!
Ahhhhh. Much better. (Though I wish I had put the mouthwash away before taking this.)
* I should probably mention here that Adam blames me for the soap dispenser breakage, claiming I placed it close to the edge of the sink. I swear this was unintentional.
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