Saturday, November 24, 2012

Oh, the Horror

I can't believe that I have let a Thanksgiving pass without consuming a single roll.  It's tragic.

Tragic in a totally made-up, drama queen way, of course.

See, the MiL's sister makes these crescent rolls for every single holiday.  They're some kind of overnight risen thing.  I don't know how they're made, and I don't really care.  All I know is I could eat the whole basket by myself and consider my meal complete.

But this year I wasn't sitting at the table with the basket of rolls in residence.  I was out on the porch with the kiddie table.  And my own kiddie, of course.  Someone brought out the basket of rolls and passed them around.  I took one, tore it in half and gave one half to Cubby.  Then I shoveled in my dinner while trying to placate Charlie, who was not so happy because it was approaching his bedtime.

Then Cubby asked for another roll, so I gave him the other half still on my plate.  And I never got another, because shortly after making sure everyone in the family got their pie fix (with brownies for me, because I don't do pie), we had to race home before there was a complete baby-related meltdown.

And so, my Thanksgiving was entirely roll-free.


We're going to my sister's house for Christmas again, which means I have to wait until Easter now to get another shot at the rolls.  And that makes me very, very sad.

How was your Thanksgiving, duckies?  What's your favorite food to consume in mass quantities?

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Make of It What You Will

Whether Thanksgiving for you is a day of serious reflection on the good things in your life or just a day in which you get to eat large amounts of desserts (the two are related, in my case), I hope you have a good one.

Happy Thanksgiving, poppets.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Speaking of Deer

No, I still have not finished all the trimming and packaging of the venison.  All in good time.

In the meantime, let's talk about animal skins, shall we?

As you all know by now, we live in a cold house.  It's actually not as cold as it used to be; I mean, it's been like three years since my pillow has frozen to the wall.  Progress!  But it's still cold.  And hard to heat even when we attempt such a thing.

This is not such a problem for the adult members of the household, all of whom are quite hardy and capable of putting on another sweater or adding an extra blanket to the bed.  But it's a problem with kids.  And especially a problem with babies.

Charlie's room is cold.  It just is.  Where he sleeps is actually the room in which my pillow froze to the wall.  There are two exterior walls in that room; it's on the north side of the house; and it has two doors, which means drafts.  Luckily, it's small, so it can sort of be heated with a space heater.

Sort of.

I realized during the most recent hellish period of no sleep that one reason Charlie was awake so much was because the poor kid was cold.  It wasn't really cold in there, but for a small baby who can't cuddle under a down comforter?  Too cold.  Even in a long-sleeved shirt, two pairs of fleece pajamas (yes, two), a fleece sleepsack, and a hat.

When Cubby was a baby and was cold in his bed, we put him on a sheepskin.  But Charlie sleeps on his stomach*, and the sheepskin is too fluffy and soft for him to be face down on it.  Then A. remembered the hide from the deer he got last year that he had tanned.  He never had any real plan as to what he would do with it, but it's almost exactly the size of the crib mattress.  And it has shorter hair on it than the wool.

So he put it under the flannel sheet in Charlie's crib.  And Charlie slept.

Okay, so not all night or anything.  But he slept two hours, then four hours (four! whee!), then two more two-hour periods.  It's not exactly as restful as it could be, but after two nights of being up every hour?  I WILL TAKE IT.

So the lesson here is that if you live in an old, cold house, revert to the ways of our ancestors and surround those babies with skins.  It's kind of barbaric, but damn it all if it doesn't work.

* And has since he was six weeks old.  I am well aware that this is a definite no-no in the medical community, but if my options are a kid who won't sleep longer than half an hour on his back or a stomach sleeper?  He's on his stomach.

Monday, November 19, 2012


I had something else to talk about today, but my every spare non-child-care minute today--which is to say, approximately 120 minutes of the day--has been taken up with butchering A.'s deer. And the dishes associated with butchering.

It doesn't take much imagination to visualize what butchering dishes are like. Knives, cutting boards, meat saw, cleaver, all in the goriest state imaginable.  Gross.

And there are still two large pots of meat in the refrigerator that have yet to be trimmed and packaged for the freezer.  So I guess I know what I'll be doing tomorrow.

But for now, I'm tired.  I'm going to bed.  Good night.