I have eaten a mountain of saltines since January 1st. Too many to count. But, fortunately, the morning sickness has passed. This morning, I eyed the two remaining packages of those square little crackers. What to do with them, I wondered?
Well, I found a solution: this incredible recipe where you layer them in a jelly roll pan, smother them with homemade toffee sauce, bake them til they crackle, and then drizzle them with chocolate. And, yes, the result is every bit as good as it sounds.
Of course, this isn't a good remedy to my latest problem...the fact that my thighs have expanded faster than my belly. But, still delicious. Now, I'm off to eat some cucumber slices in a ridiculous attempt to negate the three saltine-toffee squares I inhaled earlier....
Friday, March 25, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Speedy Boost
Lucy's family nickname has been, "Boost" for a few years now. We have no idea where the nickname originated, but it just fits her well. And her Auntie Em agreed today while visiting Portland for the weekend. She joked that Lucy had a "speedy boost" hiding within her as we were hiking up a steep hillside.
Lucy would drop behind and ask for a hand climbing the hill...
And then she would feign exhaustion and ask for a piggy-back.
And, then, out of nowhere, she would be sprinting up the hill ahead of everyone, only to then run back down the hill and repeat the scenario. We figure she covered at least double the territory of the rest of us hikers today.
Hence, Auntie Em's upgraded nickname from Boost to Speedy Boost. Fits her well, we think!
Lucy would drop behind and ask for a hand climbing the hill...
And then she would feign exhaustion and ask for a piggy-back.
And, then, out of nowhere, she would be sprinting up the hill ahead of everyone, only to then run back down the hill and repeat the scenario. We figure she covered at least double the territory of the rest of us hikers today.
Hence, Auntie Em's upgraded nickname from Boost to Speedy Boost. Fits her well, we think! Soggy St. Paddy's Parade
I'm remiss in posting this picture of Lucy in the St. Paddy's Day parade. Irish eyes are smiling...despite the soggy weather.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Close Call
On Friday, to celebrate a beautiful blue sky, the girls and I stopped for frozen yogurt on our walk home from school. I tied Greta up to a post on the sidewalk, and we went in and ordered our treats. We sat at the bar along the window, watching Greta watching us. The man behind the register commented on how nicely Greta was waiting, and he gave me the cutest little cup of yogurt with a bone on top for her. I took it out to her, and she lapped it up gratefully as I went back inside to sit with the girls.
Moments later, an Animal Control truck pulled up and parked (in a no-parking zone) right next to Greta. At first, I hoped it was just a coincidence. But when I saw him approaching Greta with intent, I quickly said to the girls, "I'll be right back!" as I ran out the door. He asked, "Are you this dog's owner?" I nodded. "Well, it's a nice dog, but you can't leave a dog unattended," he told me. I was shocked. "We were right inside watching her the whole time," I told him. He explained that it's illegal to leave a dog unattended due to the risk of dog bites. I was completely blown away. I told him that she was nearly ten, and we'd never heard of this law before. "Regardless, miss, now you know," he said, "dogs cannot be left unattended."
Meanwhile, Lucy came running out of the yogurt shop, sobbing because I left her so abruptly. "Apparently so," I said, "and I can't leave this one unattended, either!" as I hugged Lucy to calm her down. He didn't seem amused by my joke as he got back in his truck and drove away.
I'm very glad that Greta's close call with the Dog Catcher was nothing more than that. Can you imagine if I had taken one of the girls to the restroom or had my back turned for a few moments? Poor Greta girl would have been traumatized by a trip to the dog slammer. Oh, the shame.
Moments later, an Animal Control truck pulled up and parked (in a no-parking zone) right next to Greta. At first, I hoped it was just a coincidence. But when I saw him approaching Greta with intent, I quickly said to the girls, "I'll be right back!" as I ran out the door. He asked, "Are you this dog's owner?" I nodded. "Well, it's a nice dog, but you can't leave a dog unattended," he told me. I was shocked. "We were right inside watching her the whole time," I told him. He explained that it's illegal to leave a dog unattended due to the risk of dog bites. I was completely blown away. I told him that she was nearly ten, and we'd never heard of this law before. "Regardless, miss, now you know," he said, "dogs cannot be left unattended."
Meanwhile, Lucy came running out of the yogurt shop, sobbing because I left her so abruptly. "Apparently so," I said, "and I can't leave this one unattended, either!" as I hugged Lucy to calm her down. He didn't seem amused by my joke as he got back in his truck and drove away.
I'm very glad that Greta's close call with the Dog Catcher was nothing more than that. Can you imagine if I had taken one of the girls to the restroom or had my back turned for a few moments? Poor Greta girl would have been traumatized by a trip to the dog slammer. Oh, the shame.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Irish Soda Bread
Speaking of buns in the oven, we know it's nearing St. Paddy's day when our Irish Soda Bread recipe gets a workout. Thank you to the very special Maria Gibbons for handing down the authentic recipe.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Promise
It has been a week of sorrow as we've learned of the deaths of three special people, two of them tragically gone in the prime of their lives. However, despite this, I can't help but think that today's technicolor rainbow in the sky promises brighter days ahead.Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Knit 2, Purl 1
On Monday, Gram Buck gave knitting lessons to the girls. They were both thrilled with their pint-sized blankets at the end of the lesson. Lucy captured the special afternoon with photographs, which explains why she isn't in any snapshots.
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