Life Tip #329

When dropping off a resume at a potential place of employment there are certain things you should never, ever do. Ever.

1) Make a spelling error in the sentence describing yourself as detail oriented.

1) Criticize the decor.

2) Criticize the customers. Particularily their taste in regards to things they plan on exchanging money for in order gain the priviledge of taking said item home. Since that money would - in theory at least, if anyone were crazy enough to hire you - be paying your salary.

3) Use the word Satan. In any context.

Thank you, and goodnight.

A Triumph of Willpower (sorta)

I have been on what one might call a "yarn diet" this year. I inspected the scope of the yarn stash, noted how it was spilling out of it's designated "spots" and decided it might be time to cut back a little. So, I vowed to myself not to buy any yarn unless it was "souvenir yarn" bought while I was out of the city, or absolutely needed to complete a project. (Souvenir yarn, much like margaritas and cheesecake consumed while on vacation, absolutely doesn't ever count.) It has worked swimmingly so far, and I have only bought yarn during my trips to Toronto and Montreal. The yarn stash is slowing receding back to its designated places. All was going according to plan.

Then my Dad came to town, and before he left, he slipped me a little pile of cash and told me to "buy something fun for myself." Well, damn. What is more fun than yarn? Nothing is more fun than yarn! I needed to go to the yarn store to buy a couple of balls of yarn for a specific gift I wanted to knit, so I knew I would be in trouble, cash in hand, surrounding by soft temptation. I decided I needed to prepare myself: I went into the stash, pulled it all out, and looked at just how much there was and how much had already been designated to projects I really wanted to start "when I got the time". Then I marched off to the yarn store.

It was like a homecoming, I hadn't been there in so long. I wandered around and touched everything, squishing it's softness in my hands. I petted yarn, exclaimed over colours, ran silk and angora and bamboo through my fingers and sighed. Then I left them where they were, and only bought the two balls of yarn and the needle felting kit I needed.

Oh, and a swift.

Which was totally, completely necessary. And not yarn.

Bread Spam

I recently received some Amish Friendship Bread starter from a friend of mine. If you have never heard of this stuff, it is like a food version of a chain letter. Essentially, you get a bit of starter in a ziploc bag, mush it around for a few days, and then make bread with it, saving some of the starter to then pass along to three of your friends. Of course, every time you make the bread, you end up with more starter to pass along, so your definition of "friend" might have to become more vague, like maybe your dentist, or that scary neighbour two doors down. The easy thing would be to not accept the bread starter in the first place, but the experienced friendship bread pusher knows how to get you hooked. They offer you just the tiniest slice of the most delicious bread - bread that tastes like cake baked in heaven by little adorable angels- and then tell you if you want more, you will have to make it yourself so you'd better take this bag of goo or else. Since I now have four bags of goo sitting on my counter, so I can attest to the effectiveness of this method.

I didn't bother reading the directions on how to make the actual bread until I was about to start, when I discovered that the recipe calls for a box of pudding mix. Which seems odd, really. Do the Amish, with their disdain of modern technology such as zippers, really have boxes of instant pudding mix on their shelves? I soldiered on, and discovered a box of lemon pie filling in my cupboard, and used it to make lemon poppyseed cake. It is delicious. I am in danger of eating an entire lemon poppyseed cake all by myself, it is so good.

So, I must declare myself a convert. I will pass on the bags of goo far and wide, to all my closest and dearest friends! I will not question the pudding mix! The Amish Friendship Bread knows all! Now I just wonder if my hairdresser would find it strange if I brought her some bread starter today? Maybe if I bring her a slice of cake...

A Conversation Overheard This Morning

Sweetpea: "We could get snow cones, I love snow cones!"

Mr. Man: "You have never had a snow cone before."

Sweetpea: "But I love them!"

Mr. Man: "You love mass marketing."

Sweetpea: "No, that's too spicy."

Channeling Betty Crocker

Apparently the Suzie Homemaker vibe is hitting a new high around here. Not only have I thrown myself into my knitting with a vengeance, but I have also started cooking again. Cooking! Will wonders never cease. If I start dusting, though, I want someone to call the police, because it will be a sure sign the pod people have landed.

Recent Hits:

Chicken Parmesan

I have actually never made chicken parmesan before, and I decided it was about time. Or actually I just had the ingredients on hand. Whatever. It was delicious.

Chicken Thighs with Balsamic and Garlic Sauce

This was really delicious, but doubling the sauce as I did is totally not necessary. Apparently you can have too much sauce. Who knew?

Chicken Tortilla Soup

I followed this recipe pretty closely, except I pureed it before adding the chicken so there would be no offensive vegetables floating in my daughter's soup. She is pretty good about eating vegetables, but has firm ideas of exactly how they belong in a meal. Which is apparently not in soup.

Pork Tenderloin with Maple Glaze

So, so good. Fantastic, awesome, mouthwatering excellence. It should be called "perfect pork tenderloin". Or maybe "maple magic".

Or maybe not.

Soft Beef Tacos With Salsa

This is the best taco filling ever invented. Ever. It makes all other taco fillings pale in comparison. Especially fish. Because, uh, ewww.

They have not all been successes. I tried, once again, to make rice pudding and failed miserably. This is the third time I have tried to make rice pudding and had it turn out a complete mess. Normally at this point I would just quit, but I love rice pudding and I refuse to be bested by a handful of rice, so I am hoping this recipe will be the key to my success. I also attempted a banana bread I found on the internet, and it was a dismal failure. So dismal Mr. Man asked if I was trying to poison him. Eighty three people said this particular banana bread was the best they had ever tasted. Eighty three people lied. It was so awful I immediately baked a strawberry rhubarb crisp just in case I dropped dead in the next few days and someone thought that banana bread was an example of my culinary skills.

What Was That Again?

Maybe it is spring fever, or a raging case of the startitis, but I am having a really hard time finishing anything these days. In the last few weeks I have knit three different socks, a hat I plan to unravel, from the yarn I already reclaimed from the big ass hat so I can knit a different hat that will match the cowl I have knit but not sewn together, and one four year old sized pink legwarmer. I twice cast on and knit about an inch of a sideways scarf made of fingering weight yarn. Five hundred and fifty stitches cast on - twice. Took about two hours - twice. Each row took about half an hour to knit. Teeny tiny yarn meant it took a bunch of them to knit an inch.Then I frogged them. I thought about knitting mittens to match the hat I have not yet knit to match the cowl I have not yet seamed. I am thinking wrist warmers out of some cashmere I have been saving. Or maybe the laceweight scarf I have been meaning to cast on.

Or maybe I WILL FINISH SOMETHING I HAVE ALREADY STARTED.

Maybe not.

Now With More Swag!

This past Sunday Mr Man and I, along with another couple, decided to take a day trip to Montreal. Such live wires, we are. The day's agenda: a little smoked meat and shopping. We hit Schwartz's at lunchtime on a Sunday, because we are all about living on the edge. We were quickly ushered to four stools at the counter, where our orders were placed and executed with all the precision of a military campaign. There is no dallying here, no pondering the merits between medium fat and lean. You sit, you order, five seconds later you eat. But it is so, so good. Who cares if people waiting in line stare at you menacingly while you scarf down a sandwich in record time, your coat and purse bunched on your lap. Who cares if you have to eat with an elbow jammed in your back, and making it to the counter to pay is akin to Friday night roller derby. There is no caring when faced with the most perfect sandwich ever to grace a plate. Plus the pickles. And Cott's Black Cherry Soda. You just can't get that shit in Ottawa, people.

Then the menfolk went to the army surplus store to do manly men things - things that you can tell are very manly because they come from a store that smells somewhat funky and carries things in various shades of murky green. Everything. In. Green. Manly green. No chartreuse here. No lime. No celadon. Which made the the screaming pink camo pants seem even more out of place - unless someone was planning to do some late night maneuvers at the nearest Victoria's Secret outlet.

All that manliness had to be counteracted with a frothy latte with sprinkles, and then a detour to the yarn store. Can I just say right now how much I love the internet. Really. Type in "yarn stores montreal" and in minutes you are planning out a list of stores both within range and open on Sunday. How much awesomeness is that? We ended up at Effiloche, which is honestly the store I would own if I owned a yarn store. So fantastic. I wanted to pull up some yarn and just move right in, but that would have been even weirder than normal. Their fabric selection made me want to take up sewing, or quilting, or something, anything, as long as I could have an excuse to buy. Fabric with little adorable birds and quotes from 50's era children's books. Fantastic prints in fantastic colours: orange, teal, lime, raspberry. No murky green here. With monumental effort, I managed to resist - this time. I also managed to resist accosting anyone with a camera, which is an improvement (even if I would have so totally asked the woman working if she would consent to a picture with my sock in progress if it hadn't become really busy just as we were about to leave.) I like to pretend it was a win for normalcy, even so. I did come away with some fantastic yarn, and even stayed within my budget. Will wonders never cease?

swag-o-rama: