Tag Archives: food

Easy peasey.

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I’m going to give away a secret here so listen up.

For years I couldn’t bake a decent cookie to save my life.. and believe me it wasn’t for lack of trying. No matter what recipe I tried, no matter what miracle pan I used they either came out of the oven a gooey sugar filled mess or something resembling a hockey puck.

And then…

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Then I found them. The absolutely easiest, most perfect, even River can’t screw them up cookies.

Four ingredients. Four minutes prep and viola!

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Sublime every time. Trust me, those are soft baked little circles of heaven right there. And because I live to spread joy…. I’ll share.

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So far I have made lemon, chocolate, strawberry, spice, orange and butter pecan. And they were all fabulous, no hockey stick required. I’ve even started branching out by adding flavor extracts to the plain yellow mix … last night, almond.

Take that Mrs. Fields!

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Why?

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The following are three things I can find absolutely no reason for being.

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Meat is not and can not be made from plants. You want a kale sandwich? Fine, but please identify it as such. Impossible is an apt name.

Here’s something that should be near and dear to my heart – a wine purse.

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So why in the name of Bacchus are they filling it Gatorade? Epic fail.

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I’m sorry, but you have to be a special kind of stupid person to pay $14.99 (plus shipping and handling) for a single apple. I don’t care how cute the box is.

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Momma Chuck is in da house.

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It’s official… Momma Chuck is back, fresh out of hibernation and voraciously hungry.

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It seems she had no trouble remembering where the salad bar was located.

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And if you’re wondering how I know this is Momma Chuck and not one of the four babies she had under the barn last year…

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I’d say it’s the decided lack of that 18 hour bra I recommended last season.

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🤣

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I may have set a dangerous precedent.

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The husband’s weekly Sunday pool game is still in full swing and I fear I’ve doomed myself to a full day of cooking, serving and cleaning from here on out.

I’m hard wired to feed people when they visit, and though technically no one is visiting me… the men come over to play at 9:00am and don’t leave until 3:30 – 4:00pm which means lunch. Whipping up something in the crock pot works well because it meant less trips back and forth, and with no kitchen or running water in the man cave I’m not serving 3 course meals. But it also means I’m up and cooking at 5:00am every Sunday so it’s ready at noon. Back and forth to the barn with cutlery, plates, serving utensils etc. … setting it all up, feeding them, clearing up, running it all back to house to wash. This is not my idea of a relaxing weekend.

But the sweet little (competitive as hell) old man is a widower so now as well as feeding him lunch… I’m boxing up leftovers for him to take home.

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Creamy ham and noodle casserole was a hit last week. As was my plate of strawberry crinkle cookies I made the night before and had to post off limits before the husband ate them all.

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I keep telling the guys once summer heat is in full swing the meal train is apt to stop, although the widower’s disappointment is almost palpable. No one wants chicken and dumplings in July… and besides, I’m rapidly running out of crock pot recipes.

🥴

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Making himself at home.

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Our resident fox is feeling comfortable at the buffet.

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They’re such beautiful creatures and I love seeing him trot up from the woods every evening.

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While he comes for the seeds and nuts spilled from the bird feeders, I also feed him mealworms, apples and berries which he loves.

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And small breed, high protein, grain free dry dog food with taurine. It’s the closest I can come to the fox food they sell on UK Amazon but won’t ship to the United States. Boo to that.

I’m hoping if he makes himself at home the law of averages will let him cross paths with a certain… oh so scrumptious… red squirrel who shall remain nameless.

😈

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Let’s play.

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You know you want to.

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I hate to say it, but the first thing that came to my mind when I read this?

Humans. The planet would be a far better, greener place without us. Goes without saying my blog stats would drop dramatically, but it’s a small price to pay.

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On a lighter note, there’s one simple answer for me.

Kale. The sooner we rid the world of this noxious weed the better…

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No kale crackers, no kale chips and for the love of all that’s holy… no kale ice cream.

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🤮

How about you? What do you want to banish from earth….

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Mother Chucker

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Big momma woodchuck is out of hibernation and stuffing her face at a rapid pace.

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I’d thrown out bread for the birds earlier that morning but when I saw her arrive and start munching, I quickly gave her lettuce instead.

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You know, the head of iceberg lettuce my husband brought home from the store after I specifically wrote “green leaf, red leaf, Boston or romaine…. anything but iceberg!” on the grocery list.

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Even as hungry as momma chuck was….

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She left most of the tasteless crunchy white parts.

🤣

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News you can’t use.

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You can’t use it, but it’s news all the same.

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Wait a minute… they’re growing brains in laboratories? Can we please send a few to the nation’s capitol, they seem to have run out.

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Gee, I never saw that coming.

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I can think of a few uses myself. Boat anchor, fire starter, brick mortar, roof sealant… the list is endless.

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Because admit it, you’ve been wondering.

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There. Mystery solved.

You’re welcome.

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Random tidbits

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Because my life is a never ending series of nothing important.

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A 48 inch pike. While this man looks proud, they’re actually an invasive species that are destroying our lake’s natural ecosystems. People catch and release because no one wants to eat them.

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A blackberry lime sour from Mast Landing brewery. Pink, tart and strangely creamy. Yum!

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Our local pub has started serving Naan flatbreads. Sweet potato, bacon, caramelized onions, blue cheese with a honey maple drizzle. Double yum!

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Our resident fox is coming earlier in the evening to beat the skunks and raccoons to the buffet.

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We’ve had nothing but rain all month and our lawn is really getting torn up by the deer herd. Going to be a lot of yard work in our future.

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