Tuesday, December 29, 2009

fat & happy

We had the boy's family come to our house for Christmas dinner for the first time, and I loved every minute of it! I have the "cooking gene", as well as it's chubby little sister the "feed people as much as humanly possible" gene, so preparing dinner for nine was a happy chore for me.

I wasn't sure at first if we would be able to squeeze seven adults and two kids into our tiny eat-in kitchen area that we call the dining room, but thanks to some folding chairs, a poker table, and a group of people who don't mind rubbing elbows while they eat, we worked it out.

I might also have the "Martha Stewart" gene, because I even baked gingerbread cookies and added each person's name in frosting in lieu of a place bard.
*insert pleased-with-myself giggles here*


I decided to be ambitious and try cooking the turkey differently than I have in the past and used Alton Brown's brining method - and it turned out fabulously:


I also served buttermilk biscuits, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, dressing, candied carrots, creamy dill potato salad, as well as apple-caramel cheesecake and apple crisp with ice cream for dessert.

Don't you feel fatter just reading that? lol


The only way I was able to pull it off was baking the biscuit and the desserts the day before, and preparing the sweet potato casserole so it just needed to be popped in the oven to warm while I carved the bird. I made a detailed schedule and solid plan for the day of and stuck to it.

Afterwards we all piled down into the rec room and watched a movie. We had to set up the air mattress due to a lack of seating, but it meant that the kiddos had a comfy place to fall asleep, as well as prime cuddling opportunities, so it was a good thing.

Everyone left happy, and just a little fatter, so I'm calling it a job-well-done.

:)

Thursday, December 24, 2009

silver bells

My husband calls himself Roman Catholic (though non-practising) and I am an atheist (though I call myself a secular humanist), and we both love to celebrate Christmas (though in an entirely secular and commercially propogated way).

I am a big fan of hauling out our well-loved artificial tree and all the other sparkly, shiny bits that make our home feel so cheerful and inviting during the otherwise dull month of December.



Happy Holidays! :)

Sunday, December 20, 2009

This is going to hurt tomorrow...

For the record, tonight I consumed:
1 bottle of cabernet sauvignon
+ several shots of hypnotique
+ a shot of strange Japanese liquer that we only purchase because it has weird floating fruits in it (we referred to it as testicle juice for the rest of the night)
+ chocolate martinis made with white rum because there was no vodka around
= a very good evening that will surely result in a headache for me.

That probably did not make any sense, but I don't care, because I am very very drunk.

Why am I tryng to blog while I am drunk?

Just because.

Friday, December 4, 2009

and that's when I killed him your honour...

The boy has has a couple of running jokes that he thinks are positively hilarious. The main one is annoying me into saying things to him sarcastically, and then turning my sarcasm against me... another is taking movie quotes and bastardizing them for his own purposes. In this case it's the "I am dangerous... ice... man." from Top Gun.

I realize that explaining this all probably kills any inherent humour in the exchange to follow, but I felt you might need the back story to understand our insanity.

So I was laying in bed this morning beside the boy, after waking him up...

The Boy: "Your eyes look tired"

Me: "Yeah, I am"

The Boy: "Ice Man"

Me: "What?"

The Boy: "You ARE tired... ice... man"

Me: "Not what I said"

The Boy: "Yes it is."

Me: "No, I said Yeah, I am"

The Boy: "See!"

Me: "No. You said that my eyes looked tired, and I agreed, because I am tired. I said Yeah, I am"

The Boy: "No, you said I am... tired"

Me: "Yeah, that's totally what I said, exactly."

The Boy: "See... I told you. Ice man."

Me: "Wow."

The Boy: "Man, that joke is awesome... seven years, and it's still awesome."

Me: "Why? Must you always do that?"

The Boy: "Yes. SEVEN YEARS."