Ooof
Tomorrow there will be twelve people eating dinner here, if everybody shows up who might. I began the week with a stubborn migraine, but as of right now have dusted and vacuumed the sunroom, living room, dining room, kitchen, hallway, and media room, much to the annoyance of the cats. Lady Jane Grey, the newest arrival, has a very good "I do not approve" expression. I have also mopped everything but the media room and the dining room. The bucket of clean water with vinegar in it and the rinsed mop are already set out, but I can't do any more til tomorrow, since my lower back has almost as good an "I do not approve" expression as Lady Jane.
I've also made two vegan pumpkin pies and one mince pie, also, though incidentally, vegan. There were no catastrophes. The piecrust entered that tiresome state where it seems to need a lot of extra cold water, but you don't want to put too much in lest you produce the dread cardboard texture. The pies are not beautiful, but the crust seems to taste all right. I still need to make a smallish casserole, also some vegan mushroom gravy and, if all goes well, roasted turnips, carrots, and broccoli. The last is supererogatory but I want to do it.
Arwen kept me company by lying on her back either in the hall or on the kitchen floor and blinking benignly when I talked to her. She is a muted tortie cat, short-haired but plush, and has a kind of windowpane belly pattern in gray and peach. Sometimes one can pet it, but not today. She has a Siamese voice (actual parentage not really known) and made sort of quacky goat noises when I indicated an intention of petting her.
Ninja helped by putting his paws on my knee and looking winsome. He rode on my shoulders for about five minutes, but I am not his regular shoulder-steed and he eventually leapt down and curled up on a flattened paper bag that Arwen had moved into the kitchen in case she should want it.
Upstairs, Saffron raced up and down when I appeared, and Cassie stole half a corn muffin right off my plate when I stopped for dinner. I am afraid that I took it away from her, which seems very unfair.
David did much of the shopping and has put the turkey to brine. My youngest brother, who generally works as a bass player but was once a professional cook, is coming to dinner because his band is on tour right in the area at the right time. I'm hoping to get him to cook the salmon for the non-eaters of turkey. He's usually pretty obliging. My mom is bringing an apple crisp for non-eaters of pumpkin and mince (my other brother is allergic to pumpkin), and also mashed potatoes and some kind of vegetable. There's about a ninety-five percent probability that she will bring green beans, but she did once confound me by bringing roasted onions, peppers, and squash.
Other guests are bringing cranberry sauce and Eric is bringing wine, cider, beer, and maybe some soda, though we probably have enough left over from hosting the MinnStf meeting last month. Lydy had to work all week (so does Eric), but is going to clean the bathroom, undoubtedly with feline assistance.
It's been weirdly warm but very gray and dark outside, so that stepping outside causes cognitive dissonance.
I'm going to assemble my recipes and put them with the mop and the bucket of vinegar and water. I think I can keep all the tasks separate, and won't end up pickling the turnips in cat hair.
I hope you will have a good weekend, whatever you may be doing with it.
Pamela
I've also made two vegan pumpkin pies and one mince pie, also, though incidentally, vegan. There were no catastrophes. The piecrust entered that tiresome state where it seems to need a lot of extra cold water, but you don't want to put too much in lest you produce the dread cardboard texture. The pies are not beautiful, but the crust seems to taste all right. I still need to make a smallish casserole, also some vegan mushroom gravy and, if all goes well, roasted turnips, carrots, and broccoli. The last is supererogatory but I want to do it.
Arwen kept me company by lying on her back either in the hall or on the kitchen floor and blinking benignly when I talked to her. She is a muted tortie cat, short-haired but plush, and has a kind of windowpane belly pattern in gray and peach. Sometimes one can pet it, but not today. She has a Siamese voice (actual parentage not really known) and made sort of quacky goat noises when I indicated an intention of petting her.
Ninja helped by putting his paws on my knee and looking winsome. He rode on my shoulders for about five minutes, but I am not his regular shoulder-steed and he eventually leapt down and curled up on a flattened paper bag that Arwen had moved into the kitchen in case she should want it.
Upstairs, Saffron raced up and down when I appeared, and Cassie stole half a corn muffin right off my plate when I stopped for dinner. I am afraid that I took it away from her, which seems very unfair.
David did much of the shopping and has put the turkey to brine. My youngest brother, who generally works as a bass player but was once a professional cook, is coming to dinner because his band is on tour right in the area at the right time. I'm hoping to get him to cook the salmon for the non-eaters of turkey. He's usually pretty obliging. My mom is bringing an apple crisp for non-eaters of pumpkin and mince (my other brother is allergic to pumpkin), and also mashed potatoes and some kind of vegetable. There's about a ninety-five percent probability that she will bring green beans, but she did once confound me by bringing roasted onions, peppers, and squash.
Other guests are bringing cranberry sauce and Eric is bringing wine, cider, beer, and maybe some soda, though we probably have enough left over from hosting the MinnStf meeting last month. Lydy had to work all week (so does Eric), but is going to clean the bathroom, undoubtedly with feline assistance.
It's been weirdly warm but very gray and dark outside, so that stepping outside causes cognitive dissonance.
I'm going to assemble my recipes and put them with the mop and the bucket of vinegar and water. I think I can keep all the tasks separate, and won't end up pickling the turnips in cat hair.
I hope you will have a good weekend, whatever you may be doing with it.
Pamela