Now We're Cookin'

Suddenly, I'm all about the blogging. And cooking.

I promised Mike I would clean out the freezer while he was gone. It's packed with vegetables and chicken carcasses destined to become stock using Fugue Salad's recipe once I got around to it.

As I was putting groceries away, I knocked the bottom shelf off the fridge door and all the bottles housed there fell on the floor, including the bottle of Secret Ingredient. Which started to hiss, fizz and leak. So I made stock tonight instead of roasting a chicken like I'd planned. Now it's looking like I'll need to make two batches to make a noticeable dent.

I also need to juice and zest the bag of lemons our neighbor gave us and the ones I picked up at church. (The bishop and another family bring 10 gallon buckets filed with lemons to share). I've been freezing the juice in ice cube trays.

I bumped into one of my former RS coworkers at the store tonight. She's not happy about the changes, either. We would have drawn different boundary lines, we decided.
She's already missing Sister B., who's an endless source of plucky comic relief.

I'm glad we get to keep Sister B; she's a hoot. Reminds me of a Latina Joan Rivers--always dressed to the nines and providing running color commentary to anyone sitting nearby. People marveled that I got her to say the closing prayer in RS once. (I told her she could have the last word and she cracked up. I figured that was close enough to an agreement and when they called her name, she got up and said the prayer).

Hmmm. Mike was supposed to Skype me tonight and I haven't heard from him. Maybe I'll try to get him then trundle off to bed.