Saturday, December 31, 2011

Oh, Right. That.

Totally forgot today is New Year's Eve until I saw all the  "Year in Review" junk on Yahoo.  So how will The Family Blackrock be ringing out the new year and ringing in the new one?

Well, we'll go to the dump.  Maybe to the feed store to get some chicken food.  A. will be running the lake pump to fill the cistern during this unseasonable warm spell.  Maybe Cubby can get something more exciting for his birthday this year than 4,000 gallons of water.  Cubby will toast to the new year with some milk and go to bed at seven, as usual.  And if we're lucky, A. and I will follow suit about an hour later.

Hey, YOU try waking up at 5 a.m. every morning and see how late you want to stay up at night.


Yes, we're lame.  And yes, we are totally okay with that.

Sp, poppets, what are your plans for this rockin' New Year's Eve?

Friday, December 30, 2011

There Was Cussing

Not in the presence of my little mimic, but cussing nonetheless, for yesterday I had to organize the freezers.

Cue the suspense music.

Organizing chest freezers S-U-C-K-S sucks.  Everything falls to the bottom and must be hauled up to get it out.  "Everything" being heavy-ass boxes of frozen meat.  Mostly, in the case of the upstairs freezer, heavy-ass boxes of liver and suet.  I hate liver, and although I make tallow* from the suet now, I was unhappy to be struggling with not even really edible meat materials.

I called them bad names.  They didn't seem to mind.

After much toil and struggle--and quite a lot of back strain--I got all the older meat arranged in the upstairs freezer, leaving the downstairs freezer mostly empty for the six boxes of new meat.  A. hauled all those boxes out of the car and down the stairs into the cellar, which was a feat of strength in itself.

In sum, we both earned a steak dinner.  Good thing we have about 100 pounds of steak to work with now.

* Speaking of which, can you believe I haven't even made any french fries with that tallow yet?  I KNOW.  Gotta get on that pronto.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Nothing To Do with Our Trip

Mostly because I have yet to get the photos off the camera and what good are stories without pictures?  No good.  That's right.

So instead, let me tell you about my birthday cake.  Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of that either.  Which is really too bad, since it was really impressive.  After much cogitation, I decided on a German chocolate cake. The MiL had never made one, so she did a search online and came up with the most complicated recipe for German chocolate cake ever devised.  Specifically, this one.  She sent me the link to see the recipe, and I told her it looked like an enormous pain in the ass, but if she wanted to do it, have at it.

So she did.  With some small alterations by me.  Specifically, no pecans, because I don't like crunchy in my cake, and no rum, because I HATE liquor in baked goods.

High maintenance, that's me.

The MiL made the cake for me yesterday, and it took her about half the day.  The end result, however, was pretty amazing.  Also enormous.  Luckily, we attended an impromptu gathering last night to which I brought a big chunk of the cake to share so other people could exclaim over the MiL's baking skills.  They did.

And on an unrelated note, it was 43 degrees in our bedroom last night when we went to bed.  Hello, winter!  On the upside, that means I don't have to worry about the half a cow in the back of my car at the moment (cut up in boxes, obviously, not just an actual half of a cow).  I haven't organized the freezers yet to accommodate the new meat, but it's quite obvious I don't have to worry about it thawing in the car anytime soon.

Cake and meat.  That's all for now.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Road Trips with Toddlers

Before we left for our recent many hours in the car with Cubby confined to a car seat, someone asked me how we keep a firecracker like Cubby entertained for that many hours in the car.

The word firecracker, incidentally, was not mine.  The kid's obviously got a reputation.


The answer?  I sit in the back and play Kristin the Great Entertainer for hours at a time.  There's lots of talking and pointing things out out the window.  So a typical "conversation" goes like this:

Me:  See the river, Cubby?  That's the Susquehanna River.  And look.  There's a boat.

Cubby:  Boat?

Me:  Yes, boat.

Cubby:  Fish?

Me:  Fish?  Maybe.

Cubby:  Man?

Me:  You think there's a man fishing in the boat?  Sure, if you say so.

Cubby:  Bobber?

Me:  The man fishing in the boat is using a bobber?  Maybe he is.

Cubby:  Hook?

And on and on and on.  Other fun topics include trucks, especially those with ladders and construction materials in the back; hammers, even though there are none in evidence in the car because I am not such a fool as to give my son a hammer when he's within smashing distance of a window; saws, though, once again, that's a hypothetical conversation as we do not routinely carry saws in the car; and dogs.

I also sing.  A lot.  And he eats things.  On this trip, the animal crackers were a big hit.  Those things are really hard to identify as actual animals, but since Cubby wasn't about to disagree with me, I'd just hand him one and announce it was a lion and that was good enough.  Then he would bite the head off and say, "Uh oh!"  And I'd say, "Uh oh!  You bit off its head!"  And he'd say, "Missing?"  And I'd say, "Yup, it's missing its head."  Then he'd eat the rest until only a foot remained and announce, "Foot!"

And then I'd give him another one and we'd go through it all again.

So you see, it's not hard to entertain a child trapped in a car seat for hours at a time.  The child is having a great time.  It's the mother sitting there in the back who could use some help.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Happy Birthday to Me

I must admit to feeling every one of my 32 years today, which might have something to do with a certain child's insistence on getting up at 5 a.m. (or EARLIER) every damn day of our recent trip to D.C., plus the twelve hours we spent getting home today.

However, it was a good birthday nonetheless, and a great trip.  More details and probably some pictures will be inflicted upon you later in the week.  So there's that to look forward to.

And now my birthday gift to myself: Going to bed at 8 p.m.

Yup.  32.  Definitely.

Sunday, December 25, 2011