The Evolution of a Cookie

Get in there, you.
First, start off with a hungry husband. Then, add a reason to use the new ebay find. That’s all you need, really.

R decided to make a batch himself and so I guided him by the small of his back to the pantry. At this station, we reviewed the different ingredients needed. I described the softness of flour and let him feel the grainy texture of sugar. With a nod of my head, I brought R to the sink to show him how to crack eggs. The recipe called for egg yolks only. What ensued was the worst case of egg-slaughtering since the “Tee-Peeing Incident of 1989”.

I explained the process and turned my back. Splatter. Then another splatter, and another. It was a disaster.

I caught this egg’s demise at the last second.
And so I stood over R like the micro-manager that I am to make sure everything was going correctly. In the end, I had to take over and do the yolks myself.

R took a wrong turn at the ‘rolling-the-dough-into-a-ball’ demonstration and made his own variation: the biscuit-cookie. Which would really be calling it a cookie-cookie if we were anywhere else in the world.

At the end of the night, we gave a moment of silence to the poor little eggs that fell in battle at R’s hands.

Why do I put myself through this?

I’m starting to recognize more and more phobias the older I get. I can add batophobia to my list. First off, how did they come up with that word for fear of heights? What if you’re afraid of bats?

Anyway, on our trip home from Arkansas way back when, we made little pit stops here and there. These, coupled with driving only on back roads, added 4 extra hours to our overall day. But I like those days. The unplanned ones. One of the things we did was climb a very tall, very thin, very swaying look-out tower. I was nauseous immediately, but would not sit in the car while the boys had their fun. (p.s. you can click on the photos to enlarge them)

I was the smart one and made everyone else go case a landing wasn’t stable. But now that I look at the photo, what if N slipped and tumbled back? Wouldn’t it be me that suffered the most?

By the 5th landing we were suffering from lack of exercise and high altitude causing N to become paranoid that everyone who carved their name into the wood landings have also been secretly loosening the bolts one by one, until some unsuspecting soul [us] came along.

Once at the top, there really was quite a beautiful view. And for a girl who is afraid that the world is being taken over by strip malls and subdivisions, seeing so many trees in one place put my heart at ease. R always laughs at my inevitable exhale when passing such areas and calls me a “city girl” for not knowing how much land there really is in America.

R decided to take it upon himself to show how un-batophobic he was by climbing above the open stairwell. He soon became ligyrophobic after I got done yelling at him, though.

The way down may have been harder than the way up. I’ve never clung to railings so hard in my life.

One of our favorite moments on the tower was listening to N sing songs about Jesus growing out of his ear. You can just barely make out a 70 foot statue of Jesus in the middle of the woods. Good times.

today was a good day

1. Slept in until 9am, despite wanting to hit up some garage sales.
2. Made bacon & eggs
3. Finally found a recycling center and cleared out half our pantry. Bought a Brita instead of drinking from plastic bottles due to distance of recycling center.
4. Loaded up on groceries. I’ve finally learned the art of buying for two. I used to buy as if I had three hungry teenagers waiting for me at home. However, there’s nothing like the feeling of opening the door to a full fridge.
5. R made chili with fritos for lunch. Because I have T minus 60 days before I will be in a swimsuit, I actually counted out one serving: 32 chips.

6. Cut up a chicken and found the wishbone. R’s end was the longest. Spent the rest of the day wondering if his wish had been fulfilled.
7. Found a honey pot made of green glass on ebay. Garage sales can wait until spring now.
8. R and I read our respective books until we both fell asleep for an hour long nap.
9. Drove to Blockbuster in a toasty warm car.
10. Runaway Train came on the radio and I sang.
11. Baked butter cookies because it’s the one dessert R will continually eat throughout the week. You saw how the brownie went down… undercover sniper attacks on the kitchen late at night with my glass of milk. I justified it by telling myself it’s the only way I’ll get my calcium in. I think R had two bites of of the whole pan.
12. Layered on blankets and watched the movie while sipping on cinnamon tea. Perfect nightcap for a cold, cold, very good day.

We are using our printer box as an end table.
I cannot wait until our furniture is delivered.


Doesn’t this remind you of the cut-out shadows you created in pre-school? I can still feel the crayon move slowly around my head…along my arms…and then in between my fingers as I was traced onto paper. Smiling to my little self and relishing those few moments of complete relaxation. That just might have been my first yoga class.

So does this mean I can’t surf Ebay all day now?

I accepted a position in town. I’m pretty excited.

Hi. I make money now.
I treated my newly-employed self to a walk through the woods. If a day like today could be served up all year round, I’d be one happy lady. It was 60 degrees with a slight breeze. You can just feel any frustrations or worries blown away with it. And what you’re left with is clarity and appreciation. You can’t have one without the other.

A leaf tunnel on the trail.

I stopped at a log by the lake to eat my lunch. It was a simple, clean lunch. BLT on my official third homemade loaf, a gala apple (not too sweet, not too sour… just the right bite), and some fresh NYC tap water. Or isn’t that the myth of bottled water? If it’s packaged right, I’ll believe it. My marketing sisters would be happy to hear that.

The loaf in question. I can’t separate ‘loaf’ from meatloaf.
It makes me want to squirt ketchup on the picture.

Eager to visit?

Sorry, I’ve been in a blogging funk. Things haven’t been going so smoothly around here. My parents came down this past weekend and so I decided to take them on a “scenic drive” to a small town where they were having a Main Street festival. Well, we got the small town part, but it was no party, that’s for sure. We crossed through a state park and rolled under canopies of leaves with a cooler packed full of picnic goodies and a bottle of wine. Things were looking up.

And then the car stalled. Ryan managed to pull onto a dirt road, which seemed safe. And then I glanced up to see what the street name was called and I got chills. I don’t know why, but words with the ‘g’ deliberately removed (especially on a public access road) seems like the first ingredient in a recipe of danger.

After a couple hours, the tow driver came to pick us up in his truck that fits one and a half people.  We ran through several scenarios, but the driver ended up calling his brother to pick up my parents. And then offered to give us one of his personal cars to drive the hour back to home. We weren’t used to such generosity and he really did save the day. In fact, the car he loaned us was better than my car that broke down. 

Above are my parents in “the brother’s” truck. My mom said he gave one word answers, while our driver divulged his whole life story to us. I hope we never meet his wife, because we know way to much to have an unbiased impression of her. 

So, is anyone else eager to visit? Don’t all put your hands up at once. Please, you’re embarrassing yourselves. Sit down.

Autumn — The bait and switch

We made a quick jaunt to our home (someone please buy it, thanks) to do yard work. It’s a full time job in our area.

I love, love, love the trees.

..And the color.

Raking leaves… not so much. Although, we have found that doing it the old school way without a leave-sucker works much better for us.

We noticed at one point that leaves were coming down faster than we could rake them up. So, R tried to rake them mid-air.

This pic was taken literally 5 minutes after we bagged all of our piles.

Our neighbor’s yard made us feel better though.


We didn’t do much on Halloween. I saw a sign for a haunted house, but even I was too scared to go through it. There were no ads anywhere about it, just a random sign.

So instead we went to see Saw V at our little theatre. I paid $8 to watch maybe 25 minutes of it. The rest was spent covering my eyes. The hat was not invited.

Bun in the Oven

Stop right there. I’m not pregnant. But my oven was. I decided to use the extra time on my hands [read: unemployment] to make bread. I don’t know why mixing flour and water frightens me so much, but it does and I’ll be honest about it. The image I have in my head is an apron-clad, thick waisted old woman pounding at dough all day, hair matted to her sweaty forehead and then finally throwing it into a wood oven where she has to keep watch on it, never able to leave the kitchen.

I want to leave the kitchen. Is that so much to ask?

So I dove into a no-knead recipe, aptly named “No-Knead Bread”. I just bought a new mixer, so hopefully that will help me in the future with “Knead Bread” recipes, but I was too eager to wait.

These are the only ingredients I used. I was afraid to use any other type of flour, even though I have whole-wheat flour, for fear of messing up the recipe and getting discouraged*.

So I let set it out overnight and when I turned in for bed, I noticed that it did rise a bit. The next day it had gone back down again. Normal? The recipe tells you to use more flour and play around with the dough. The end result ended up looking like a large pancake. The recipe asked for a ball. Hmmm… Not to mention the kitchen looked like it survived the Dust Bowl.

So I pop it into the oven and quickly jumped from the tiles onto the carpet into the living room…to I guess prove that I wouldn’t be stuck in the kitchen all day. Don’t ask.

On the top, the end result looked nice. But if you can’t tell from the photo, it didn’t rise very much. I decided to read one of my favorite blog’s tutorial and found it very useful. I’m not discouraged at all, even though I know it didn’t come out right. (Yes, it didn’t stop me from breaking off a piece and dunking it in olive oil) I’m determined to make this a thoughtless process, if only for the health benefits (and to get out of the kitchen).
*Update: R came home, tried a piece and almost broke his tooth. Discouraged.