Well, I couldn't figure out a way to link my recipes to this blog without just totally making a new blog.
So, I totally just made a new blog. :)
It's called Virginia Cooks! and I'll be linking it here so that it (kind of) corresponds with my weekly menus. It'll have some other stuff too (like Christmas goody recipes for this month!). I'm hoping that you'll see how easy and fun cooking can be. And share in the yummy recipes I've found and love endlessly.
Anyway, here's the url: www.vacooks.blogspot.com
Visit it if you'd like. Or not if you think reading this blog is enough as it is. I understand.
Here's a peek at the first recipe:
Jana's Mock Heath Bars
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Ebeth Makes Dinner
Do you remember last week when I talked about Evan going to Greenland? Well, I neglected to inform you how that went.
Not great.
Oh, Evan got all his orders and tickets on time. He made it from Colorado Springs to Baltimore okay. Once he got to Baltimore, he had to take a flight from Baltimore to Tulle. The flight left at 2:00AM. Well, it turns out that the compass on the plane was broken. And if there is even one teeny, tiny thing that is not working on the plane, it can not fly. Period. So, they had to wait for the plane to be fixed before take off. They put Evan and the others up at a hotel (where Evan got a whole 3 hours of sleep) and Evan had to wait and see what his boss wanted him to do. You see, Evan was going on the short trip, which means he was leaving Wednesday and coming back home Friday night. If this trip got pushed back, he wouldn't be guaranteed a spot on a flight home for what could be up to two weeks. His boss decided that he didn't want Evan stuck in Greenland, so he had him come back home. Poor Evan. He was most disappointed. And frustrated. He was awake for almost 36 straight hours to basically sit at airports and hang out. Now he'll have to deal with the situation in Greenland via the telephone. I'm sure he'll get to go another time, though.
But, while he was gone, Elisabeth got to be in charge of dinner for a night. She decided to make a pizza. She will now show off her mad cooking skills!
First she spread out the fancy pizza dough in the can. She also yacked my ear off the entire time she was cooking. I'm sure you're all shocked.
Then she spread out the pizza sauce from a jar. (Look at that face! She was in total story mode.)
Next we spread out the mozzarella cheese.
Elisabeth loves cheese.
And then it was time for the pepperonis. That was the only topping she wanted.
Something in her story must have been funny. The girl is a riot, I tell you.
We cooked it for about 18 minutes, until the crust was brown and all the cheese (the mounds and mounds of cheese she put on) were melted.
Elisabeth deemed it excellent. I think she ate 4 pieces.
Julia did not have any, due to a belly ache. We thought that maybe bananas and cottage cheese might be nicer to her stomach then pepperonis and greasy cheese.
Elisabeth has plans to make another meal sometime soon. Right now she's too busy helping me with Christmas cookies and trying to eat as much cookie dough as humanly possible!
Not great.
Oh, Evan got all his orders and tickets on time. He made it from Colorado Springs to Baltimore okay. Once he got to Baltimore, he had to take a flight from Baltimore to Tulle. The flight left at 2:00AM. Well, it turns out that the compass on the plane was broken. And if there is even one teeny, tiny thing that is not working on the plane, it can not fly. Period. So, they had to wait for the plane to be fixed before take off. They put Evan and the others up at a hotel (where Evan got a whole 3 hours of sleep) and Evan had to wait and see what his boss wanted him to do. You see, Evan was going on the short trip, which means he was leaving Wednesday and coming back home Friday night. If this trip got pushed back, he wouldn't be guaranteed a spot on a flight home for what could be up to two weeks. His boss decided that he didn't want Evan stuck in Greenland, so he had him come back home. Poor Evan. He was most disappointed. And frustrated. He was awake for almost 36 straight hours to basically sit at airports and hang out. Now he'll have to deal with the situation in Greenland via the telephone. I'm sure he'll get to go another time, though.
But, while he was gone, Elisabeth got to be in charge of dinner for a night. She decided to make a pizza. She will now show off her mad cooking skills!
First she spread out the fancy pizza dough in the can. She also yacked my ear off the entire time she was cooking. I'm sure you're all shocked.
Then she spread out the pizza sauce from a jar. (Look at that face! She was in total story mode.)
Next we spread out the mozzarella cheese.
Elisabeth loves cheese.
And then it was time for the pepperonis. That was the only topping she wanted.
Something in her story must have been funny. The girl is a riot, I tell you.
We cooked it for about 18 minutes, until the crust was brown and all the cheese (the mounds and mounds of cheese she put on) were melted.
Elisabeth deemed it excellent. I think she ate 4 pieces.
Julia did not have any, due to a belly ache. We thought that maybe bananas and cottage cheese might be nicer to her stomach then pepperonis and greasy cheese.
Elisabeth has plans to make another meal sometime soon. Right now she's too busy helping me with Christmas cookies and trying to eat as much cookie dough as humanly possible!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Fun at the park, even in late November!
One of the absolute best things about living in Colorado, besides our fantastic view of Pikes Peak daily and the lack of humidity (making every day a frizz-free hair day for me!), is that the weather is to die for. It's perfect. Granted, today we had a snow day, and the temperatures are not in the double digits, and there's a good 2-3 inches of snow in our driveway, but I'm not worried. Why? Because the forecast for the end of this week puts the temperatures back in the mid to high 40s. That's why. And that's how it works. It gets super cold for 3-4 days, maybe has some snow, but goes back to above freezing for the majority of the time. If we were still in Illinois, this snow would be around till April and we'd be in the single digits for weeks on end.
In fact, the weather was so lovely, that we went to the park for a while the weekend before Thanksgiving. It was in the low 50s and beautiful outside. So, we hopped in the wagon (so that Julia would learn to enjoy riding in it when we're outside instead of screaming her head off because she wants to walk back and forth from seat to seat like she does when it's in the house).
This picture does not capture how pretty the sun setting behind the mountains really was. But, hey, I tried.
We stinking love this park. It's just half a mile from our house and has stuff for both girls to do. Plus it has that giant field next to it that they can run around in like puppies.
Elisabeth was very busy hanging out of the wagon, talking to Barbie on her cell phone. No, she's not wearing shorts, she's wearing gaucho pants that were hiked up. It wasn't warm enough for shorts. Sheesh.
In fact, the weather was so lovely, that we went to the park for a while the weekend before Thanksgiving. It was in the low 50s and beautiful outside. So, we hopped in the wagon (so that Julia would learn to enjoy riding in it when we're outside instead of screaming her head off because she wants to walk back and forth from seat to seat like she does when it's in the house).
This picture does not capture how pretty the sun setting behind the mountains really was. But, hey, I tried.
We stinking love this park. It's just half a mile from our house and has stuff for both girls to do. Plus it has that giant field next to it that they can run around in like puppies.
Elisabeth was very busy hanging out of the wagon, talking to Barbie on her cell phone. No, she's not wearing shorts, she's wearing gaucho pants that were hiked up. It wasn't warm enough for shorts. Sheesh.
He's going to be ginormous.
Remember this guy?
He was all teeny and tiny. He was only 3 months old when we brought him home in June. He looked like a baby bulldog walking around and we thought he'd be all short and stout.
Well, we were wrong.
Cause Figaro has not only outgrown Roosevelt, but he's still growing.
He won't be one until February.
He's going to be the biggest cat alive!
But, he's still all kitten. He still sleeps like the dead and isn't easily awakened.
And, he still has the biggest purr this side of the Rockies.
He was all teeny and tiny. He was only 3 months old when we brought him home in June. He looked like a baby bulldog walking around and we thought he'd be all short and stout.
Well, we were wrong.
Cause Figaro has not only outgrown Roosevelt, but he's still growing.
He won't be one until February.
He's going to be the biggest cat alive!
But, he's still all kitten. He still sleeps like the dead and isn't easily awakened.
And, he still has the biggest purr this side of the Rockies.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Menu time.
Here's our menu for this week!
Monday--Chicken in Lemon Cream with Penne
salad
Tuesday--Round Steak Casserole
(No sides, since it's loaded with veggies)
Wednesday--Shepherd's Pie
corn on the cob
Thursday--Chickpea Pasta with Almonds & Parmesan
roasted brussel sprouts
Friday--Poor Man's Lobster
rice
steamed broccoli
Monday--Chicken in Lemon Cream with Penne
salad
Tuesday--Round Steak Casserole
(No sides, since it's loaded with veggies)
Wednesday--Shepherd's Pie
corn on the cob
Thursday--Chickpea Pasta with Almonds & Parmesan
roasted brussel sprouts
Friday--Poor Man's Lobster
rice
steamed broccoli
It's Christmas Baking Time.
I love making Christmas goodies. With all my heart. I like having an excuse to have excessive amounts of sugar, flour and chocolate in my house. I like announcing it's cookie baking time and having Elisabeth fly over to me with her apron on, ready to lick any spatula that needs licking. I also love the traditions that are being passed down.
Every year, I make Russian tea cookies. They look like snowballs. My mom made them every Christmas, and they're the only time she'd make them. Well, a few years ago, I found out that, not only did my mom make them every Christmas, but my Grandma had made them every Christmas, as did my Great-Grandma. Elisabeth loves helping me roll the dough into balls and then rolling them in the powdered sugar.
Evan's mom also has a few Christmas cookies that she was nice enough to share with me so that I can make them for Evan. My favorites are the Mock Heath Bars, Jana's mom's Spritz cookies and date bars, and, of course, Jana's gingerbread.
Jana's been making gingerbread houses since Evan was Julia's age. She makes these amazing houses and even sells a few every year. When Evan and I were first married, I didn't make a house, but I'd make gingerbread cookies for us to eat since he doesn't feel like it's Christmas unless the smell of gingerbread is everywhere. When we'd go home for Christmas, Jana would have a blank house ready for Elisabeth to decorate and then we'd take it back up to DeKalb with us to stare at and eventually destroy on New Year's Day. Ah, tradition.
Here's the house Jana made last year.
Super awesome, right?
Well, here's the problem. You see, we aren't going home to Illinois this year for Christmas. Which means that Jana will not have a blank house for us to decorate. Which means I will have to make a three dimensional house all by myself. I started making the pieces of the house last night. I plan on taking lots of pictures and then showing you all how it turns out. Unfortunately, last night my camera died, so I was unable to document the first pieces being made (or Evan almost cutting his finger off with our super duper scissors. Thankfully, he didn't need to go to the ER, but we thought he might have to.) But, no worries, cause my battery's all charged and ready to go now!!!!
Every year, I make Russian tea cookies. They look like snowballs. My mom made them every Christmas, and they're the only time she'd make them. Well, a few years ago, I found out that, not only did my mom make them every Christmas, but my Grandma had made them every Christmas, as did my Great-Grandma. Elisabeth loves helping me roll the dough into balls and then rolling them in the powdered sugar.
Evan's mom also has a few Christmas cookies that she was nice enough to share with me so that I can make them for Evan. My favorites are the Mock Heath Bars, Jana's mom's Spritz cookies and date bars, and, of course, Jana's gingerbread.
Jana's been making gingerbread houses since Evan was Julia's age. She makes these amazing houses and even sells a few every year. When Evan and I were first married, I didn't make a house, but I'd make gingerbread cookies for us to eat since he doesn't feel like it's Christmas unless the smell of gingerbread is everywhere. When we'd go home for Christmas, Jana would have a blank house ready for Elisabeth to decorate and then we'd take it back up to DeKalb with us to stare at and eventually destroy on New Year's Day. Ah, tradition.
Here's the house Jana made last year.
Super awesome, right?
Well, here's the problem. You see, we aren't going home to Illinois this year for Christmas. Which means that Jana will not have a blank house for us to decorate. Which means I will have to make a three dimensional house all by myself. I started making the pieces of the house last night. I plan on taking lots of pictures and then showing you all how it turns out. Unfortunately, last night my camera died, so I was unable to document the first pieces being made (or Evan almost cutting his finger off with our super duper scissors. Thankfully, he didn't need to go to the ER, but we thought he might have to.) But, no worries, cause my battery's all charged and ready to go now!!!!
Friday, December 4, 2009
Not edible.
I found this in my fridge. I don't remember purchasing it. Nor do I think it necessarily needs refrigerated. Hm.
So, yesterday would make the third time that I have failed at taking the garbage to the curb on time in a month. THIRD. I don't know why. Perhaps I am leaking brain cells somewhere and they all have to do with remembering to take the ding-dong garbage can to the curb. The first time, I just flat out forgot. I only remembered when I heard the garbage truck drive by, felt a tingling in the back of my brain that triggered the "oh, crap! I never took the garbage to the curb" thought, and then I ran outside to watch our giant purple garbage truck leave our street. (Yes, it's purple!!) No big deal, I'll wait till next week.
Next week, I get the garbage can to the curb. Then as I'm piddling around, doing SAHM things, I fill up another bag and decide to add it to the can. As I'm putting the bag into the trash can, the big purple garbage truck PASSES me. I start running down the sidewalk, waving my arms, trying to get them to stop. They do not. Now, I can either 1.Take it that they passed me by because I'd forgotten last week, so they just forgot me this week on accident or 2.I am so freaking fat that I COVERED THE ENTIRE GIGANTIC GARBAGE CAN FROM THEIR VIEW, therefore making them not see that they should pick up my trash. I chose to believe it was number one (for my self esteem's sake), called the company and told them to please turn around and come back since I would now have two weeks of garbage sitting by the side of my house. Ew.
This week, I don't know what my problem was. Maybe it's because our week was messed up with Evan's trip. Maybe it's because I depend on him texting me in the morning to remind me it's garbage day. Maybe it's because I'd been doing such a good job of remembering for six months that I need to start sucking at it now to bring balance into my life. Who knows. All I know is, I took the can out later then normal, and I must have missed them because it was still sitting there full at the end of the day.
It's not just the garbage. I think that, deep down, I'm kind of a ditz. With some things. Not all things. Like, when we lived in DeKalb. I worked at the same day care that Elisabeth attended. So, everyday, Elisabeth and I would walk out to the carport to my 2001 Ford Focus (sniff, sniff. loved that car) and I would put Elisabeth in her car seat, buckle her little three year old self in, and then go straight to my seat. It was a 2-door hatchback, so it's not like I had to shut her door and then open mine up, I just pushed the seat back and sat down. I would start backing out of our carport, begin going forward toward the street, and then hear all these loud booms from the roof of my car towards the ground. Turns out, I had left my things on top of the car. My coffee, my library book, my everything. The first couple of times, I would say a couple of choice words and rush to pick everything up before someone behind me ran them over. After maybe the 5th time, Elisabeth, my short, spunky three year old, began going through a check list with me before I even put the car in reverse. "Mommy, do you have your coffee?"
"Yes, Elisabeth."
"Your books?"
"Yes, Elisabeth."
"That box you were holding?"
"Oh, crap!" And then I'd hop out and grab it before it became road kill. Once Elisabeth was satisfied that we would not be spilling my things all over the road and endangering our safety, she would say, "Okay, Mommy, now you can drive."
How sad is it that I need my three year old to make sure that I have my crap together? Yeah, I know. Sad. Very, very sad.
So, yesterday would make the third time that I have failed at taking the garbage to the curb on time in a month. THIRD. I don't know why. Perhaps I am leaking brain cells somewhere and they all have to do with remembering to take the ding-dong garbage can to the curb. The first time, I just flat out forgot. I only remembered when I heard the garbage truck drive by, felt a tingling in the back of my brain that triggered the "oh, crap! I never took the garbage to the curb" thought, and then I ran outside to watch our giant purple garbage truck leave our street. (Yes, it's purple!!) No big deal, I'll wait till next week.
Next week, I get the garbage can to the curb. Then as I'm piddling around, doing SAHM things, I fill up another bag and decide to add it to the can. As I'm putting the bag into the trash can, the big purple garbage truck PASSES me. I start running down the sidewalk, waving my arms, trying to get them to stop. They do not. Now, I can either 1.Take it that they passed me by because I'd forgotten last week, so they just forgot me this week on accident or 2.I am so freaking fat that I COVERED THE ENTIRE GIGANTIC GARBAGE CAN FROM THEIR VIEW, therefore making them not see that they should pick up my trash. I chose to believe it was number one (for my self esteem's sake), called the company and told them to please turn around and come back since I would now have two weeks of garbage sitting by the side of my house. Ew.
This week, I don't know what my problem was. Maybe it's because our week was messed up with Evan's trip. Maybe it's because I depend on him texting me in the morning to remind me it's garbage day. Maybe it's because I'd been doing such a good job of remembering for six months that I need to start sucking at it now to bring balance into my life. Who knows. All I know is, I took the can out later then normal, and I must have missed them because it was still sitting there full at the end of the day.
It's not just the garbage. I think that, deep down, I'm kind of a ditz. With some things. Not all things. Like, when we lived in DeKalb. I worked at the same day care that Elisabeth attended. So, everyday, Elisabeth and I would walk out to the carport to my 2001 Ford Focus (sniff, sniff. loved that car) and I would put Elisabeth in her car seat, buckle her little three year old self in, and then go straight to my seat. It was a 2-door hatchback, so it's not like I had to shut her door and then open mine up, I just pushed the seat back and sat down. I would start backing out of our carport, begin going forward toward the street, and then hear all these loud booms from the roof of my car towards the ground. Turns out, I had left my things on top of the car. My coffee, my library book, my everything. The first couple of times, I would say a couple of choice words and rush to pick everything up before someone behind me ran them over. After maybe the 5th time, Elisabeth, my short, spunky three year old, began going through a check list with me before I even put the car in reverse. "Mommy, do you have your coffee?"
"Yes, Elisabeth."
"Your books?"
"Yes, Elisabeth."
"That box you were holding?"
"Oh, crap!" And then I'd hop out and grab it before it became road kill. Once Elisabeth was satisfied that we would not be spilling my things all over the road and endangering our safety, she would say, "Okay, Mommy, now you can drive."
How sad is it that I need my three year old to make sure that I have my crap together? Yeah, I know. Sad. Very, very sad.
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