MAN do I love turning back the clocks an hour in the Fall. I know it gets dark earlier, but it also gets light earlier. My body seems pretty determined to stay my ass in bed ’til it’s starting to get light out, so that means I’ll be up a little after 6 for the next few weeks instead of a little after 7.
Also we’ve only got, what, another six weeks of the days getting shorter before the process reverses itself?
We had our first sub-freezing night Friday night, so Friday afternoon I went out and picked the tomato plants clean. I got a bucket and a half of green tomatoes – mostly cherry tomatoes. I ended up chopping the non-cherries tomatoes and freezing them so that we can have green tomato chili at some point this winter. I put several of the larger green tomatoes aside to ripen, pickled some of the cherry tomatoes, and left the rest of the cherry tomatoes in hopes that they’ll ripen so Fred can eat them on his lunchtime salad for a few weeks longer.
Except for the carrots and radishes in the raised beds, the gardening appears to be pretty much over for this season. I have a million new ideas for next year, and I’ve written them down.
Hopefully when it’s time to start planting stuff again in four or five months, I’ll remember where I wrote everything down!
I’ve been making the hell out of chicken stock lately. For the first batch, I followed Ina’s recipe to the letter. I went a little more loose with the next batch, and by the third batch, I mostly tossed in everything I thought would work (celery, onion, carrots, rosemary, salt, peppercorns) and called it good enough. I’ve got one more batch to go, and then I’ll have used up all the chicken bones I’ve been stockpiling, I’ll have a cabinet full of canned stock, and there’ll be room in the freezer to collect more chicken bones.
In the mornings, I listen to Bob and Sheri while I’m taking my shower, blow-drying my hair, brushing my teeth, all the usual thrilling stuff.
I was about to step into the shower, and Bob announced that the world’s most famous sidekick would be on in 20 minutes. I paused for a moment and thought “Huh. I thought Ed McMahon was dead?” and turned up the volume a little so I could hear the name of the guest, since I couldn’t for the life of me think of another famous sidekick.
Some time later, while I was still in the shower, Bob started talking about the upcoming guest again.
“The world’s most famous sidekick,” he said. “John Edward will be here in about fifteen minutes…”
Wow, I thought. John Edwards is the sidekick? Then the big cheese must be someone really famous! Who the hell…. ? Is Elizabeth Edwards going to be on, and they’re being funny calling John her “sidekick”…?
And then my brain kicked in and I realized that he hadn’t been saying “sidekick.”
He’d been saying “psychic” John Edward.
Duh.
(And yes, Ed McMahon died in June of 2009.)
You know, I’m just never allowed to have anything nice ’round here. Someone sent us something a few weeks ago, and after I unpacked the box, I put the box (with newspaper in it) on the floor of the kitchen, intending to eventually take it out to the garage on the way to the recycling center. Of course a cat immediately jumped into the box, so OF COURSE I left the box there so that the cats could sleep in it.
All was well for about a week, and then one morning I walked into the kitchen to find that one (or more) cats had pulled some of the newspaper out of the box. I put it back in the box, and it stayed there for a few more days, and then every morning I’d walk into the kitchen and a few sheets of newspaper would be on the floor. I’d put it back, find it pulled back out the next morning, and so on.
Then one evening, the cats got together and had a newspaper-shredding party.
It’s a Bustie in a box!
Corbie, having shredded some newspaper, takes a bath break.
Starsky and Hutch watch Buster (who’s in that box – you can see the end of his tail sticking out.)
Corbie (on top of the box) and Jake (next to the box) watch Starsky kick some newspaper around. Rhyme and Hutch (at the bottom of the picture) join in on the shredding, while Buster stays in the box and minds his own business.
Newspaper: shredded. Kitchen: a mess. Kittes: happy.
When the cats abandoned their shredding project, I tossed all the newspaper into the box and took it out to the garage so that next time I go to the recycling center, it’ll be ready to go.
TAKE THAT, KITTIES!
Stinkerbelle would like you to know that she had nothing to do with the shredding. She’s a good girl.
Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: That is not “getting” someone a car, that is BULLYING SOMEONE INTO DRIVING THE KIND OF CAR YOU WANT THEM TO DRIVE.
2006: Y’all just shut UP. We do NOT have eight cats.
2005: It’s a fucking mystery.
2004: I seem to be a tad less fluttery today.
2003: No entry.
2002: Pictures.
2001: Fred in the dog house. Literally.
2000: I said “It’s a good thing you put your first AND last name, PLUS ‘your daughter’, otherwise I’d never have known!”
1999: Oddly, even though he’s had two doses of the antibiotic, he’s feeling worse instead of better.