Tag Archives: cooking

On Blueberries and Snuggle Time

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I’m lunching at the office today and trying to distance myself from work stuff a little by doing something else, something “different.” So, what do I do? I write a blog post (that’s right, take a break from writing by simply writing something else) when I could be staring dumbly at the ceiling and counting the tiles in a mind-numbing state. Clearly, I have problems.

Anyway, I tell you this because I have a little container of blueberries next to me. I snarf down two or three every couple of minutes,and wow they’re great. I buy pounds (yes, pounds) of blueberries now because MW2 loves them; he eats them like candy. In fact, when he reads this, I’m sure he’ll remember that there are a couple more containers waiting for him in the fridge–they’re on that little half-shelf behind the tall stuff, babe!

File:Blueberries on branch.jpg

So anyway, the first time I came home from Spouts with a ton of blueberries (not a literal ton, but you’d think it was that much). As I’m unpacking things, MW2 sees the berries and makes a comment about them, and it was clear that he was happy. He grew up in NH after all, where blueberries apparently grow like weeds and you can get them for longer periods of time than can be had here in Tejas.

“I got them for you,” I say with a shrug. It wasn’t a big deal and it would make him happy.

“You did?”

“Yeah. You got blueberry ice cream at the ice cream shop last night, so I figured you’d like some.”

He gave me a big ol’ smackeroo and we shared one of the containers right then and there, right out of the box.

***

I have never been to sort to cuddle with someone on the couch. Mainly, this is because every man I’ve ever been with hasn’t cuddled with me so much as lain on top of me so as to either make half of my body go numb, or to make it impossible to breathe. Suffocation is not fun.

MW2 loves to snuggle. And I love to snuggle with him. He has a habit of stretching out on the couch and laying with his head in my lap. We’ve spent hours in this position; I play with his hair and we talk and laugh. Those are some of my favorite moments.

In bed, he will wrap his arms around me and pull me close. There are even times when we fall asleep on the same pillow. If the position isn’t comfortable, it’s a non-issue. We move around so that we’re comfortable. My arm has never fallen asleep. We can snuggle while watching a movie and I can breathe the whole time.

Because he pays attention.

***

On Saturday, we were sitting at the bar over at The L (not to be confused with The H). We were chatting with our friend, C. She was telling us about how great her boyfriend is in the kitchen–it turns out he’s a wonderful cook. Of course, I mention MW2′s mad culinary skills and about how great it is to not have to be the only person cooking all the time.

He chimes in: “She buys such interesting things and leaves them in the fridge–all kinds of stuff that I wouldn’t think about getting at the store,” he says. “And she buys me blueberries.”

Book Review: ‘Life from Scratch’ by Melissa Ford

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I can’t do a quick little 20 word review for this one, because it’s just too cute to fit into such a tiny little box.  If you’re a blogger and/or you like food (I happen to fall into both categories), then you’ll really like Life from Scratch by Melissa Ford.

The main character, Rachel, is a bit neurotic, and very much still in love with her ex-husband.  As a result, she pours herself into a blog which centers on her life and her adventures in cooking – a new pursuit she’s picked up after her life falls apart and she finds herself necessarily furnishing her apartment in modern Ikea chic. 

She’s a loveable character, though, and we ladies can relate to her seeming craziness – haven’t we all gone a little loopy after a harsh break up?  She’s got the most awesome best friend, and a great heroine needs an even greater sidekick so there’s another plus.  Her family is loveable, if kinda strange in some cases (I couldn’t handle being sisters with her sister).  Her brother is this great transient kind of character, and her ex-husband actually ends up being a kind of swell guy.  In fact, by the end, you’re hoping they get back together.

Overall, I give this one two thumbs up.  It’s a quick read – I finished it in about two or three days, and that was during the final week of the thesis writing.  It’s quite an entertaining little story and I think you’ll like it. 

Above image and more info at http://www.lifefromscratch.com/.

Inspiration

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Sometimes it’s hard being a writer.  Sometimes, you stare at a blank wall and wonder where on earth you’re going to dredge up the ideas that need to start flowing. NOW.  I read a post recently about finding inspiration in writing.  It’s a witty, sardonic post (well, the whole blog is…and don’t read it if you’re looking for something sans f-bombs), but it made me think about where my inspiration comes from.

My latest project, for instance, came to me whilst pooper-scooping the backyard.  I kid you not.  And no, it has nothing to do with scoops of poop, but wouldn’t that be funny?  My point is, we don’t know when (or where) inspiration will hit us.  And no, I’m not obsessed with poo (this will make more sense later).

And this goes for way more than just writing.  Why did you choose that color green for your bathroom wall?  No.  It’s fine.  I’m sure there are many people who like it.  What made you decide to cook spaghetti for dinner?  Oh.  It was that or dog food?  Alrighty then.  What made you put that shirt with those pants (assuming, it wasn’t your only option because you blew your laundry money on other recreational activities)?

What inspires you?

As for myself, I like to go to the zoo and watch the apes throw poo around at each other, decipher shapes in what they leave on the walls and then write about it.  Don’t believe me?  Well, you’re smarter than those apes over there.

Holy Insulin Shock, Batman!

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Question: For the sake of this argument, let’s all agree that life follows a set pattern, i.e. one is born to one’s parents, one becomes a parent, one’s child becomes a parent and so on, and so forth. ["Incidentally, one can get beaten up in school simply by referring to oneself as 'one'." Bazinga, people. Bazinga.] So we’re assuming that this is the pattern of things. If we assume this, then, I ask: if necessity is the mother of invention, what is invention the mother of?

Today, the answer is sinful, simple, sugary goodness…followed by insulin shock.

Sure, it look innocuous enough. It is just a cookie, after all, right? Look it! It’s even white…like pure, freshly driven snow. *sigh* It’s just a slice and bake Pillsbury sugar cookie. No biggie, right? It’s just slathered in thick, smooth, sugary, homemade buttercream icing…the kind made almost entirely of Crisco and powdered sugar (the best kind!), which I just happen to have on hand to make cupcakes for my kiddo’s class next week…the icing that just happens to be left over from the awesome [insert angelic chorus here] wedding cake a certain soon-to-be chef made for a rockin’ wedding. (Wink, wink!)

Here’s another picture

Did I feel a little bit like Austin Powers while I shot said cookie from different angles? Why, yes. Yes, I did. “Uh huh! Show me the love! Right there! Yeeeah baby, yeeeah! Gimme the icing. No! No! NO! I must eat you now!” Er…wow. Um. Yeah. That may have come out sounding a little dirtier than I meant it to. Sorry for that. Let’s blame it on the insane sugar content.

(ahem)

Me likey the sugary treats on a Friday afternoon!! Tehehe ;)