I flew solo last weekend, so obviously there was much feet-up and bon-bonning…

Yeah, not at all.  I kept myself as busy as humanly possible, and even did some NEAT STUFF in there.

Among the more-ordinary-but-still-fun things were meals with friends, walks to the park, and iced lattes.  Cold and caffeinated?  I’ll take 6.

Saturday was the real kicker, though.  I got up – “willingly” – just after 6.  In the morning.  I picked up my friends, drove across town, and ran 6 miles with them.  (Lots of sixes in today’s post…)  SIX MILES, you guys.  That’s farther than I drive for most of my errands.  But, there’s a 10K coming up this month, and still MORE fun after that.  I’m still not one of those people who likes running.

[femonite.com]
I hate it.  While I’m doing it, I hate the flowers and the trees and the puppies and you.  But when I am done?  I AM CHAMPIOOOOONNNNN.  And so I do it again.

I rushed home from that and barely slid my butt onto the couch in time for the 2013 FANTASY FOOTBALL DRAFT.

Yep.

I picked my people via the that’s-a-neat-name-where’d-his-mama-get-it system, and also by googling things like “which wide receiver should I pick next?”

Beware the Eastside Honeybadgers.  They’re coming to your town to eat your football team.

After that, I went with some ladies to a place where you order a snack and a glass of wine and sit down for a PAINTING CLASS.  We don’t doubt we were the highlight of our instructor’s day.  She called us the “rowdy bunch” and something about “banshees.”  The other group was a bachelorette party.  But they were REALLY quiet…

I think I have a future in this…

Yes.

Do you know this song?  It’s very catchy at this time of year.

Did you eat fluffernutter sammiches?  Or dig through the hot cocoa mix to get the extra “marshmallows” out of the bottom?  Actually, if we’re having confessional, I preferred RediWhip with my peanut butter.  But I’m definitely the reason there are no marshmallows left in the Swiss Miss bucket.

This adventure started when someone who shall remain nameless wanted to get some hot cocoa and a cozy hat for his sister.  Being incapable of letting him do things on his own, I suggested we go to the amazing Golden Fig for some locally-crafted marshmallows.  When we went in, the lady working said that they had gone out of production just a few weeks ago!  Gah!  Then, she says, “But they’re totally easy, you should make some!”  And HE says, “Yeah!  Make some!”  And so the nice lady made me a grocery list, sold me some expensive vanilla paste, and sent me on my way.  This more or less follows Alton Brown’s recipe.

That weird alien goop in the mixing bowl is 3 packs of gelatin and 1/2 cup of ice cold water.  Put it in there.  Leave it alone.  Then, heat up 12 ounces of sugar (I used organic, which is a little bit brownish), a cup of light corn syrup, a pinch of salt, and another 1/2 cup of ice cold water.

Bring it to a boil, or more specifically, 24o degrees.  I don’t use thermometers.  Maybe I should, but I like to pretend that I could survive in a less technological world.  With my glass stovetop and my blog.  Then, because my pan is bad at pouring, I dumped that into a big measuring cup.  You don’t have to, but you really don’t want to spill any hot sugar…

For those of you with spouses, this is about the time they get tired of your project.  Ignore him, it will be worth it.
Turn your mixer on low, and pour it in slowly with the gelatin goo.

Mix it.  Turn the mixer up a little.  Then a little more.  Eventually, you want it at medium-high or so, but going slowly will avoid some mess.  It will start out suspiciously (like the top picture) but will turn into a bowl of amazing (like the bottom picture).  When you lift the beater, it should be the consistency of… marshmallow fluff.  About a minute before it’s done (or, basically, when it’s done) add a teaspoon of very expensive vanilla paste, and whatever flavoring you want.  Oils are better than extracts, because of the consistency I think.  Maybe because of the alcohol in the extract, but that doesn’t fit with jello shot theory, so I’m not sure.  Anyway, cinnamon oil in these things is a religious experience.  Do it.

Spray and powder (equal parts cornstarch and powdered sugar) a sheet pan.  Pour the fluff into the pan, spread it evenly with an oiled up spatula, and let it sit for 4-8 hours.  Now go lick the bowl.

Dump it onto your counter and cut it into squares.  Toss them with some more powder in an airtight tub and you’re done!

The resulting melty goodness will give you a mustache and change your life.

I don’t know much about the zombie craze lately, but there have been a lot of them wandering around my city.  There’s an entire bar devoted to it!  I’m not really sure what my issue has been lately, but it seems they’ve gotten my brain.  Unable to form sentences.  I missed you, too!

Let me fill you in…

Crazy sewing of clutches to fulfill Christmas orders!  Did you hear me?  Christmas orders.  I’m big time.  They’ve seen a slight redesign, and although you no longer have to tie a ribbon to close them (magnets!), they take me for. ever. to. make.  Including one very underthegun one for my mother in law.  I think I stitched and restitched that thing 8 or 9 times.

Marshmallows!  Did you know you could make them?  More on that later…

Limoncello!  For those of you who’ve never had it, it’s booze.  Booze that will make you sit up STRAIGHT.  I started it a while ago, and am just now sweetening and bottling.

Chicken curry!  Unreal.  Stay tuned on this, also.

Got my semi-annual haircut!  Yeah, I know…

Bloody mary mix!  This is unbelievably tastier than bottled.  I didn’t take any pictures, but I can tell you what I did…

First, you need a base.  I used organic tomato juice, and I got a small bottle of Clamato.  Honestly, it would never occur to me to put “clam juice” into a beverage.  A soup or stew, maybe.  MAYBE.  But “clam juice”…?  That just sounds gross.  Do you squeeze it out of the clams, like oranges?  Is there a clam reamer??  Anyway, some things I just try not to think about.  I used a fairly small proportion of this ingredient, but it did add a little je ne sais quoi (it annoys me when “foreign” words are italicized) to my tomato.  Savory?

Then I got out my pepper grinder and got to work.  To achieve the optimal level of peppery, your arms will probably be about ready to fall off.  These are not efficient machines.  I poured Worcestershire sauce in until it was the right shade of… bloody mary.  Salt isn’t really necessary in this, because tomato juice has plenty of it.  Then I scooped in about 3 or 4 tablespoons of horseradish – in my opinion, you should read the labels in the horseradish section and go with the one with fewest ingredients.  You don’t need the creamed stuff.  I squeezed a lemon or two into the pot, and then got ready to add the “secret ingredient” I learned about on the interwebs.

Pickle juice.

I was a little afraid it would taste weird, or thin it out too much – I hate thin mary mix – so I was a little cautious.  Don’t be, people.  It’s impossible to pinpoint, and it changes everything.  It changed my world.

For salad… olives (blue-cheese-stuffed, if your husband hasn’t eaten them all), pickle spears, hot pickled asparagus, hot sauce to taste, and baby corns.  How do they make those things, anyway?

They sure are good.

I have a job (career?) on which I spend many, many hours, both mentally and physically.  I also have “hobbies,” like cooking, cleaning, wiping down the countertops, and doing laundry.  I don’t have “hobbies” like going to concerts, golfing, or being an auto enthusiast.  Basically, outside of my taste in shoes, I’m a pretty cheap date.  Lately, I’ve been trying to find some “hobbies” that could bring home a little extra bacon.  My focus here is the bacon, but YOU try to convince him of that when he’s grown weary of my Creative Process.  To him, it’s a hobby.  Tomato/tomato.  That one doesn’t really work in writing, does it…

I have some amazingly creative friends.  The first person to really open my eyes to life’s crafty possibilities was a girl who used to run a sale out of her house, complete with very sad husband unable to find the coffee pot.  She now has an actual space in South Dakota that she doesn’t have to live in.  She’s one of those people that finds a hubcap and a left roller skate on the side of the road and turns it into a Christmas decoration you’re willing to pay $80 for.  Screen door chandelier?  Sure!  I’ll never think like she does, but it has changed the way I look at Old Stuff and spray paint.

Another gal who inspires me makes bags out of pillow cases.  Bags that I’m not embarrassed to carry, I might add!  And my e-bestie over at Riot and Frolic is constantly making things I’m pretty sure the two of us should mass-produce.  I mean seriously…

Having the A.D.D. like I do, and liking to dabble in many things, I’ve tried a few angles on weekend cash.  I’ve sold some of my homemade booze infusions.  Some rehabbed furniture has helped pay the rent – it’s even better if you can get the ugly furniture for free!  My current stab at lucrative weekends is these little bags which are no longer coming out crooked.

It helps a great deal that I have found fabric stores that are not Joann, great as she may be for the essentials.  I stumbled upon a totally cute, mostly yarn-filled shop on the river that had the most aDORable prints.  For me, it’s actually better that their fabric selection was smaller.  Fewer decisions to make.  If you’re into that stuff, stay tuned for more cute fabric shop websites.  I’m going on a pilgrimage next weekend.

I sent a batch of the aforementioned bags to the aforementioned Shoppe in South Dakota, and am hoping that people see them as The Perfect Gift for someone in their life.  I’m hoping they’re reasonably priced ($20), and already have some orders in from friends.

If you want one, just comment or Facebook me and we’ll talk colors!  I’m excited to help people gift for less, but this is also largely about disproving his “just a hobby” theory.  It’s about bacon, people.  More things should be.

I recently acquired an accidentally amazing vintage sewing machine.  My mother in law found it in some lady’s basement, and they figured it was just “old,” but it turned out to be “vintage.”  Very Important Distinction.  According to the serial number and manual, it’s from the late ’40s.  It’s from before the age of excess, so it’s small and fits into a nifty case that stows out of way ever so politely.  Ever since it hit my living room a week ago, I’ve obsessed over finding a project to start with… Much googling, and I decided on this little clutch

from WhipUp, a neat crafty blog.  One of the things I liked about this project was that it was pretty nonspecific about the instructions, and I generally prefer guidelines to rules.  I knew going in that I’d be dissatisfied with my results, but that I’d know what kind of changes I wanted to make next time around.

I headed out to good ol’ Joann and browsed the bolts.  Thrifty as I am, I managed to find ONE that was on sale, but if you’ve ever been in there, you know it’s impossible to get out for under $50.  I found a couple florals and a couple stripes that I was inclined to mix, some iron-on interfacing (I thought of that on my own, and then noticed it in the directions!  That made me feel like a “natural” or something.), some ribbon, and a tomato pincushion just like my mom has.

I ironed my fabrics and got to measuring and cutting.  Immediately, I started to fail.  I need a system for this, and also a ruler and a fabric pen.  But me, my Stanley tape measure, and my Bic pencil did just fine, I think.  Besides, this wasn’t about perfection, it was about playing with my new toy.  Measure and cut, measure and cut, measure and cut, and this is what you get:

Boring white: interfacing.  Stripe: inside.  Floral: outside.

I ironed, I pinned, I forgot to sew the ribbon to the outer material before putting it all together.  Whoops… good thing I’m MacGyver with a needle and thread.  Sew, sew, sew, despite the CONSPICUOUS absence of seam allowance guides on my machine, and the whole thing was only slightly crooked when it was all said and done.  So slightly, in fact, that I had to point it the specific crookedness out to my friend.  We decided it was no big deal, and would go away with a little practice.

I think the whole project took me an hour, and if I had a little practice I could probably cut that in half.  A little practice and a fabric pen.  I think I used about $5 of the $75 Joann Fabric took me for, and so I immediately wonder if I could sell these on the black market.  Or the craft market.

Someone told me once that if you tend to get really invested in buying all the supplies for a new project, but then have trouble following through, that you’re “really creative,” which I thought was a beautiful way of saying “slacker.”  I can see it, I guess… I get excited about all the colors and patterns and combinations, but the cutting isn’t as fun.  However, I like that sewing something small is nearly instant gratification, especially when compared to my (NOT abandoned) attempts at knitting and crocheting.

Finished product = worth it.  Looks more or less like the original picture!  Place your orders now – also comes in blue!

Am I really the only one who feels totally overcaffeinated when the IKEA catalog shows up in July?  How about Restoration Hardware?  Or even just little ol’ Crate & Barrel?  I find it hard to believe that I’m alone here.  When he asks why I bother dog-earing the pages, I tell him that I’m just “getting ideas” for things like… paint color?  How to arrange the furniture, maybe?  I’ve never actually looked for these things in a yummy new catalog.  I’m sure I could get these ideas from the great staging they do, but what I actually see is gorgeous furniture that I need.  Wait, want.  I get those two mixed up a lot…  To understand how much I truly do not need furniture, you should know that until a few weeks ago, we owned five sofas.  Five.  This does not count upholstered chairs, of which we have at least that many.  I think I’ve mentioned that it’s a big, uncleanable house.  Holds a lot of sofas.  Davenports, if you prefer.

When we were cleaning up after our big shindig this weekend, we were looking around the house with a little bit of a critical eye, and he was telling me a few of the features he “hates” about the place.  We got on the subject of ceiling fans and other fixtures.  I have mixed feelings about ceiling fans.  I think they’re not the most beautiful design element available, but I love the option of moving the air around via something other than my expensive-to-run and highly-inefficient air conditioner.  There are two in the house, and sometimes we run them even though they’re in rooms we never use.  It’s our theory that the air circulates beyond those little rooms… but who knows.  We’re contemplating replacing one of the builder-standard gaudy “chandeliers” in the main room with a ceiling fan, but it is my opinion that it should be a non-hideous one, or it’s not really worth it.  Read: expensive.  That was pretty much immediately pointed out to me, but I quickly moved on to the next idea I had.  Take the gaudy “chandelier” in the kitchen and paint it red.  The question is whether I could swap out the glass “shades” for something that would be a little less 2001.
I saw this on Shabbie Chic Home‘s Etsy site and realized I might be able to make something cool…

And how cool would it be to have mason jar shades?  Okay, maybe a little much on an entire chandelier.  But I like the idea!  And cool of BootsNGus to recycle vintage jars this way.  I love that they tell me it will remind me of catching fireflies as a kid.  Agh!  Suckered again.

I don’t tend to rush out and buy housewares.  My bigger impulse issue is clothing, as my job is fashion conscious and it’s easy to justify.  I neeeed this dress.  Wait, is that justifying or whining?  Either way.  And maybe there’s a little truth my claim that the wardrobe needs constant updating, but I can still shop the closet.  I can turn wide leg pants into skinnies.  I can take that dumpy old jacket and have it cropped and tailored.  That’s usually cheaper than a new outfit!  And I can paint the things in my house that are ugly until they are bearable.  I have a hunch that the busy-ness epidemic and the consumption epidemic are close cousins.  I’ll be trying to consume less without adjusting my schedule at all.  Stay tuned, this could get interesting.

My friends are the greatest!

They tell me when I’m good at stuff.  Occasionally, they tell me when I’m not so good at stuff.  Example: “You should maybe consider taking your life in a different direction.”  They tell me when I look great, and when I’ve strayed from the looks that I look great in.  Example: I now own two of the currently-trendy belted Hefty bag dresses.  One maxi, one mini.  Friend J has insinuated that while I look fine in them, I should not add to my collection.  No matter how comfy they are.  Her (and my) better half hates them entirely, but we all have fat days.  This lady illustrates that you don’t have to have a fat day to wear this dress.

Sometimes, your friends will pretend that you don’t bother them when you totally do.  Example: Friend N (see also: Husband) pretended this morning that we weren’t leaving the house 15 minutes late.  He sat at the breakfast table, staring into space, as I rushed around trying to get out the door.  He then claimed that he “hadn’t noticed the time” and marveled at how “the last 10 minutes go by so quickly!”  I think he was grinding his teeth, but it was nice of him just the same.

Sometimes, your friends remind you to do the things that make you happy.  Friend K, who is 11 months pregnant, is getting impatient with my lack of writing.  She sent me a message at 4am today that I should get to writin’ because she is bored and can’t move/sleep/sit still/function.  Or something to that effect.  So here I am, 12 hours later, writing!  Hi K, hope you’re staying cool.  You should really schedule your last trimesters for the cold snaps.

Sometimes, your friends help you buy things.  In college, Friend B and I shared joint custody of a pair of purple velvet pants.  No, really, they were cool…  Friend KS and I currently share joint custody of a set of sweet recipe cards from the 70s that have cocktails on one side and appetizers on the other, complete with awesome photos.

Sometimes, they challenge you to try new things!  Or new old things.  Like crocheting.  Is that even a word?  I’ve tried knitting… I’m okay at it.  Crocheting is easier, I think.  Friend J just asked if I could show her how.  Right now, I could not, but I was just thinking about trying it again after reading Friend K’s post about it.  So I think I’ll re-examine my yarn collection and crochet hook, figure it out, and teach Friend J.  Think about it… I get to do something challenging (figuring it out), something creative (making something fuzzy), and something that adds to one of my many great friendships (teaching Friend J)!  I think I’ll try this cute flower, it looks like a good first project…

I can barely keep track of my great friends, but they seem to always still be there when I resurface from my long work weeks.  Maybe it’s because of my keen fashion sense… or my cocktail-making skills.

I’ve turned to a life of crime.

It’s Day Four of my Week of Selfishness.  Fun in the kitchen on Day One, some quiet writing time (and a super fun meeting) on Day Two, and a lovely brunch on Day Three.  Today’s mission?  Pot some herbs.  I had no way of knowing it would take such a dark turn.

I don’t always do my homework before I start a project.  Usually I do my homework somewhere near the beginning of the project, so that’s something, but I tend to shop for supplies and THEN take stock of what I need.  This invariably results in either having more than I need, or not enough.  In this case, it was not enough.  This is partly due to my efforts lately to not buy things I don’t need (I know, right?).  So for my little planting project, I did not buy a trowel.  I found that a half-cup measuring spoon did the transfer of dirt from bag to pot just fine.  That was the best outcome of my self-restraint.

A few days ago, I bought three herb plants – basil, cilantro, and mint.  Those are the ones I use most frequently in cocktails, so I thought I’d start there.  I didn’t buy any pots.  I had one from my days in an office that used to hold one of those viney plants everyone had on their file cabinets.  The kind that is poisonous to a cat?  I thought I’d put the mint in that one, as it’s a pretty and expensive pot, and I will keep the mint inside.  Check.  I knew that there were some pots in the pile of Her Things that remains in the garage, but it turned out there was only one in the size I need.  Soooo… I went back out this morning to find a third pot.  Found a cute/cheap fat blue guy in pretty short order.  Done and done.  When I got back home, I decided to google “how to pot herbs.”  Yeah, I could’ve done that before I started any of this, but I didn’t.  Don’t tell my dad.

This is where things start to go downhill.  Step One was to put my pebbles in the bottom of the pot.  Pebbles???  You may remember that I’m trying to Buy Less (I know, right?), so I start thinking of things that could act as pebbles.  The purpose of them is to create better drainage, so I just need some objects that will hold their shape when wet and under a pile of dirt.  Next scene: cut to me crouched under my deck.  In the rain.  In sweats.  Filling the front of my sweatshirt with the river rocks my homeowners association uses to edge the landscaping.  Actually, it’s probably included my association dues…

This is what I made off with.  If anyone asks, you haven’t seen me.

I cut a grocery bag to make a work space instead of a mess.  Someone tell my dad!  Pots and black market rocks lined up and ready to go.

Next, with my trusty half-cup measure, I put a little potting soil on top.  (I couldn’t find organic potting soil, only organic garden soil.  I don’t know enough to know if they are interchangeable, but I assumed they make both for a reason.  Anyone know where to find organic potting soil?)  I peeled the compostable “pots” off of my plants and we sorted out where everyone was going to live.

Mint went into my old favorite Smith & Hawken pot.

Basil went into the fat blue pot, and cilantro into the found pot from the pile of Her Things.  I wonder if that one will die first… Basil and cilantro are drinking buddies out in the rain today.  They look like they’re having a pretty good time.

I’ll let them settle in and hang some window treatments, and maybe in a couple of weeks I’ll whip up some salsa and a mojito… and a margherita pizza.

I baked a cake this weekend.  From scratch.  If you spend any time around me, you probably already know this, as I obsessed about it for about 5 days before it even happened.  The victims?  The ladies of book club.  Let me share a little bit about the experience…

I own several cute aprons – at least two of them involve polka dots.  But somewhere in my mind, I have aprons categorized as “retro” or “obsolete” or some other category that deems them unnecessary when I’m cooking.  So when Act I of this cake-baking adventure found me promptly covered in flour, I decided I will start using aprons more often.  Some other things I learned through this experience: parchment paper should come pre-cut in rounds.  Minor pain in the arse cutting circles out of parchment paper.  Also, non-nonstick cake pans are better, because the batter needs something to “grip” while it “climbs” the side of the pan.  Thanks to my pastry-chef-friend E.  Did you know that nonstick cake pans cause the cake to brown more on the edges?  Neither did I.  Did you also know that some recipes call for 9″ rounds, and some call for 8″ rounds?  Who came up with THAT system?  For now, I have 3 stick 9″ pans.  Let me know if you need to borrow them.

The cake was great.  I have a hard time dividing things “in half,” apparently, so when it came time to spread the filling between the layers, there may have been some jamming of lemon curd between two already-set layers.  Turns out it tastes okay even if you rough it up a little bit in the process.

I also made sangria (for my regular friends) and fruit punch (for my pregnant friends).  I didn’t try the non-alcoholic version – what? – but someone asked for the recipe so it must have been okay.  The sangria comes from Emeril and can be found here, and the regular punch was cran-pomegranate, a squeeze of lime, a bottle of San Pellegrino, and some other stuff.  I also made some caramelized onion dip in an effort to get rid of the Greek yogurt in my fridge.  My mom suggested I add some ground chipotle to it, so I did, and it was good.  I like it both ways!

Tonight I grilled some salmon, and managed not to screw it up.  Turning it over was nearly as terrifying as baking a cake, but it worked out.  Look out, I seem to be on a roll.  Next up: souffle!  That was a little culinary humor, I’m not actually dumb enough to try making a souffle.

I know you’re probably already feeling bad about yourself, what with all that I’ve gotten done this weekend, but there’s more.  I managed ALL OF THIS, and also found time to go shopping!  I know!  In a futile search for the Perfect Summer Frock, I bought one dress that he loves (I was ambivalent, it is above the knee and fitted – there is no room for gluttony in this thing), and one that I think he would prefer I never even saw.  It hits me somewhere below the ankle, is blousy-but-belted, and I could probably fit two of my closest friends or several racks of ribs in there with me.  It’s a “maxi dress.”  The best invention of the 21st century, I think.  I am certain that men everywhere are organizing a campaign against them, but ladies, they are genius.  Throw on some flip flops and some bangles and it’s practically evening wear.  Now I just need to get to work and make some jewelry to go with these new friends of mine…