Do You See It?

 A few weeks ago  I took a picture of the dress I was wearing, because I thought I saw a goat demon in the pattern.  The next day I was out shopping and the store clerk was wearing the same dress and I had to resist the urge to to ask her if she bought the dress for the devil goats.  Somehow I doubt I would have been welcomed back into the store if I brought it up. If not banned, at the very least I would be  watched with a side eye every time I browsed the racks. I get the impression that would people would rather knowingly wear a demonic goat dress then accidentally wear a demonic goat dress.

I bring up the the demonic goat dress, not because it is a frequent rotation in my wardrobe, but because it is a catalyst of trying to unsee patterns. Today, I was walking down the stairs and I am sure that there is an evil clown blowing a kiss in the carpet print.  Now that I see the clown, I can’t not see the clown.  Do you see it?

If you don’t let me help you.  The clown is outlined in blue and he is definitely blowing you a kiss. 

This might be a sign that I need to replace the carpet going up the stairs, or embrace my inner evil clown. I am going to vote for replace the carpet.

Fangs

 I read. It seems like forever since I wrote about anything I have read. Most of  what I have read lately is stuck in the obscurity of fan fiction.  With that being said, I have just finished the most charming graphic novel.  Fangs by Sarah Andersen might be my favorite love story between a vampire and a werewolf.  

I adore this book. It made me smile and chuckle all through reading it. There characters are likable. The art is clean and uncomplicated. It is pokes humor in unexpected ways.   If you were ever in need of a gift for a friend this would be a go to gift. 

The Emily Challenge

 The Emily Challenge

I have a coworker who is an over achiever. Every month she takes on a different challenge. One month she gave up alcohol. Another month it was carbs. One time it was sweets. It is always something different and isn’t always food related. She does this with her significant other and it always provides insight to her and others.  One insight it has provided me as an observer is that I would rather Emily give up alcohol than carbs. Emily is much happier with carbs in her life then out of her life. Another insight is that there is always something to learn about yourself. With this said I am going to take an Emily challenge.  Emily has challenged me to write everyday for at least a month on my blog.  

So, here I am, writing in what feels like forever and seeing several blog posts that were started and never published.  I am not sure what I am going to write about, but it wouldn’t be a challenge if I had a plan.  Welcome to Day 1 out of 31 Days of writing madness. Or as I call it and will probably grumble over it as the Emily Challenge.  We will see what I learn by the end of it and maybe just maybe I would be considered an overachiever.

Pie Thief

My father might be an evil genius. Or perhaps he is just trolling me and it is all a joke and not a conspiracy to drive me insane.  At the very least, it can be said that he is a man that works in mysterious ways.

This past Christmas, my father gifted me five large ramekins. This in itself is not strange. My father has gifted me instruments of baking persuasion in the past.  Five is a little bit of an odd number, but not anything questionable.

The real mystery started with the discussion with my father on what inspired him to send me crockery. I am not complaining about the dishes, I am just curious. My father normally has something that inspired him.  This something that inspired him happens to be chicken pot pie.  The sort of chicken pot pie that has a flakey crust at the top and not the noodle concoction that is native to the area that I live.  The question I had was where did he get the ramekins. The answer I received wasn’t clear. 

After multiple conversations with my father, I have been able to deduce that the crockery came from some sort of place that sells these pies that can be heated at home. My father bought these delicious pies, ate them and saved the crockery. The ramekins are worth at least $9 a piece. My father assume that my husband would not be adverse to pot pies. He was enabling my husband to enjoy a pot pie life. 

The concept that a place will let you make off with their dishware is foreign to me. If feels like a bad restaurant model to replace dishes with take out orders. I have begun to research how to send a pie by mail and if said pie comes in its own crockery.  This search may have resulted in me sending at least on pie to a friend randomly. 

My husband has a theory that my father is absconding with the pies and sending me the crockery to coverup the theft. I do not think my father is a pie thief. However my father has informed me that he has acquired more ramekins. My husband lives in fear that we will be taken over by pilfered crockery.   The more I subtlety question my father about the pot pie, the more vague he gets.  The more vague he gets, the more pie I make, so I can bring up the topic. My husband gets to live his best meat pie life as this mystery continues. 

I have  fixed over half a dozen different pot pies for my husband and brother in law since the arrival of ramekins.  Maybe we all need to eat a little more pie in our life and not worry about the details of the crockery. 

Tomato Soup Resolutions

 Nobody wants to hear about New Years Resolutions. A resolution is a personal thing and if you made one, it is something personal to you and not anyone else.   I have a few attainable resolutions that I have made this year.  They aren’t anything major, but if asked I’ll share all of them.  Today I have one that I want to talk about and it is going to be quite a journey.  I want to write about the journey and to do so, I need to share the goal. 

I want to make the best tomato soup.  

I know.  It isn’t what anyone was expecting. I don’t even know if it what I was expecting when I was thinking about resolutions, but then outside influences happened.  My husband is a unique outside influence, because he doesn’t even try to influence anything other than my music choices. We were watching a food documentary and talking about favorite foods and comfort foods and the goal came to me out of the wild blue yonder. 

When I was a wee young lass (think around age 8), my mother and I would eat tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches together. It was our thing when I was a kid, because no one else in the house liked tomato soup.  At the time I didn’t like tomato soup. I just wanted to hang out with my mom and I loved grilled cheese sandwiches.  I learned swiftly that cheese and tomato are secret best friends.

I am an adult now, and I love tomato soup.  It is the go to soup that my husband and I can agree on and is a nostalgic sort of comfort food. If I am making soup, it is in the top the requested.  Until recently, I have never made tomato soup from scratch. It has always been a name brand canned soup.  Recently I have made my first attempts into learning the art of tomato soup and for a soup that some think of as a side step away from ketchup, it is not an easy soup to make. 

The first step in the journey was to do research.  I have a plethora of cookbooks, but the one I used as the basis of my first attempt was Ski Town Soup.  (If you recall I may have blogged about a chili I made when I was going through a cookbook challenge. The chili was magnificent.) This cookbook held half a dozen variations of tomato soup from notable ski resorts.  I was able to flip through and compare the different ingredients and preparations with ease and come up with a game plan for my first attempt.

 

First attempt consisted of roasting tomatoes in the oven and then peeling them. While the tomatoes were roasting with rosemary and thyme, diced carrots and onion were sweating it out together in a sauce pan.   After the tomatoes were done being roasted they were peeled, chopped and cooked with the carrots and onion. After simmering together, chicken broth and basil was was added and all of it spent quality time in a blender until it was an odd tomato smoothie.  After blender time, cream was added to the soup to make it a creamy tomato.  Salt and pepper were added through out the process.  Everything was heated through and served with grilled cheeses sandwiches.  The end result wasn’t terrible, but certainly not the best. 

The ratio of carrots used in comparison to tomatoes, made it seem more like a carrot soup. (Who knew carrots were that mighty?) I like the roasted tomatoes. I think they brought out a nice flavor, even if peeling skins off hot tomatoes is an act of madness. I was a nice soup, but not the best tomato soup.  Additional  experiments will commence.  If you have any suggestions on processes/ ingredients to tweak let me know.  There is no wrong path to take to get to the best tomato soup.

Grandma’s Porcelain Doll Sanctuary

My husband often jokes that I am spooky. Not in a way that make an X Files episode, but  more like a Marilyn Munster. I have a list of favorite cemeteries. Spooky might just run in my family.

If you don’t believe me, let me share of an excerpt from an interview I had with my grandmother. 

Q: How many porcelain dolls do you have?

A: .......

Q: Would you say that you have more than 30 porcelain dolls?

A: Yes. Definitely.

Q: Would you say that you have more than 50 porcelain dolls?

A: Right around there. 

Let me pause right here. I think I might have entered into my sister-in-laws nightmare land. More than 30 but possibly less than 50 porcelain dolls are hidden or on display around the house.  If anyone had a fear of dolls, I can attest that my grandmothers living room would drive someone into the mouth of madness. 

Q: What was your first porcelain doll?

A: I had two dolls from when I was child.  They weren’t porcelains, they were bisque dolls. They crack easily in a hot attic. 

I looked up bisque dolls or biscuit porcelain dolls. And as per Wikipedia “Bisque dolls are characterized by their realistic, skin-like matte finish.”  Now I am trying not to think about dolls with realistic skin and cracked faces. My grandmother has a way of letting your form your own images in your mind. 

Q: What was your first real porcelain doll?

A: The first real porcelain doll was of Trish (my aunt) when she was a child. 

I am not sure if this is where I admit that my first porcelain doll came from my grandmother when I was 8. The doll looked a little like me at the time and lives in my attic.  I am sure my aunt is thrilled about being immortalized in a child form in porcelain. There is zero chance our souls will end up in these dolls. 

Q: Why do you like them?

A: I always like dolls when I was a young girl. I wasn’t able to have them as a child. The first dolls I had were rubber dolls. They melted in the attic. I always wanted a doll with teeth. 

I decided to look up rubber doll on the internet to find out exactly what my grandmother meant by rubber doll.  Do not search for rubber dolls!! Search for Vintage Rubber Dolls.  There is a big results in the search results. 

Also try not to think too hard about a doll with teeth. Every mental image of dolls with teeth confirms that creepy runs in the family.

Home for a Wayward Woman

 Wayward Woman

If a woman walked up to you on the street, asking for help, would you take her home and try and help her? 

The way I see it there are two answers.

A: Take her home and try to find help.

B: Pat her on the head and wish her luck. 

Jon and I took option A  and have discovered that numerous neighbors took option B.  I can’t tell if my neighbors are monsters or if Jon and I are suckers. 

Meet Nami. Short for Nonami.

She walked up to as we were on a stroll around the block.  Literally walked right up to me. She was super friendly and looked similar to a missing cat posters we saw around the neighborhood.  Jon and I could not leave her on the street, so we took her home and tried to find her owners.  I know that if one of my boys went missing I would be frantic with worry and furious if someone some them on the street and didn’t try to bring them home.

Despite the number of missing cat posters in the neighborhood, she was not the cat in question. No one wanted to claim this wayward kitty. Posting on social media and several pet finding site, we were able to discover the sad truth of her story. It seems that someone moved into an apartment that didn’t allow for cats, so they let her free. 

It wasn’t my plan to get a third cat. In fact anything over two cats can seem like the beginning of a crazy cat lady; however if video games have taught me anything is that if a cat walks up to you and gives you a quest, you take the quest. 

This quest involves giving Nami a happy life. Welcome to the to the family.