New Year's Party & Humble Pie

Blair and I are typically last minute New Year's Eve people meaning someone at the last minute will offer us an invitation to come to their home and drink champagne and overindulge in fatty foods.

Not this year. This year WE will be the ones offering the obligatory cheese and cracker tray and vegetable dip.  That's right--hold the presses. The Harris' are entertaining.

Before you all take it up on yourselves to forward me the phone numbers of local emergency departments, let me assure you I will have help. It turns out my friend Pam is not only a brilliant author, but a kick-ass cook as well.  She has offered to cook me, Blair, and her husband Michael a full meal on New Years in--get this--MY KITCHEN.  Just like my own little fairy god-mother.  She's even said she'll let me make the pie (under the strictest of supervision).

So we'll wine and dine with Pam and Michael, then hold an open house from 8-midnight for our neighbors. I like the idea of a party where people feel free to come and go or drop in as the mood hits them.

So, the humble pie comes from the fact that after my online rant about insisting the tree and decorations come down on December 26th, I've agreed the house would look more festive for New Years if we left it all up so--gulp--up it stays.

Switching tracks, Blair is on vacation today and next week and I'm very much looking forward to having him around the house. We've compiled a huge to-do list that includes going through closets and cabinets with an iron eye and throwing out anything we don't use, clearing out the Garden of the Dead, shopping for our fish tank, and finding time to watch "The Sound of Music" (holiday tradition).  Busy, busy, busy.

Oh yes, I better find some munchie appetizer dishes to serve as well for New Years. I don't think people will want my apple pie...

Garden of the Dead

Perhaps I need to spend less time worrying over the state of the inside of my house and pay a bit more attention to the looks of the exterior. What you see in the photo is what greets you as you approach our front door. Stick a headstone in there and you'd have a working replica of Dracula's grave. 

Can't help it. I kill flowers. Although, what you see here are the remnants of flowers that did actually bloom this summer. I just haven't gotten around in the past 3 months to weeding them out since they died. You know. Busy...

I've been told some people have "winter gardens." I don't know who these over achieving freaks of nature are, but they better not come near my door. Although I feel secure in the knowledge that one look at our garden of shame would send them into flight far, far away.

I'd like to have a beautiful garden with bursts of color and bloom, graduated plant heights that take full advantage of the sun/shade setup, and cars that slow down as they pass my home, just so they might linger but a moment longer and partake of the beauty I have created.

Instead, we hear the screech of rubber as people careen past our door, fearful of what haunts might lie inside based on the spooky exterior.

In my next like, I'm going to come back as perfect.

Scary Apple Pie

I don't claim to be a good cook. Rachel Ray will never have me on  her show and relatives know it's best to eat a light meal before they arrive at my house for dinner, in case something goes astray (and something always goes astray). But darn it, even I should be able to add butter and bake.

Sigh...tis not to be.  Last night I made two apple pies, one of which had to be chunked for the most embarrassing of reasons... I forgot to cook it long enough. 

See, a neighbor's kid was selling apples for some school trip and of course the cheapest apple tray was something obscene like $39.99 for--are you ready--18 apples.  What the hell am I going to do with 18 apples?? I gave what felt like loads away to friends but still had half a fridge left. Blair has a company potluck tomorrow so I thought, "Wouldn't it be nice to bake my man a pie?" (Fortunately, my man has been around long enough to wise up and he made sausage balls to take in as a back up).

Now, when I say "bake a pie," what I mean is I purchase a ready-made frozen pie crust and apple crumble filling. All I have to do is add 6 tablespoons melted butter, stir into the crumble mixture and pour over the apples. Which I did. But I still had 5 apples and more filling and an extra crust, so I plunged in and made another pie.

And here's where I made my error. I slipped my 2nd pie into the oven about 20 minutes after pie #1 had gone in,  and walked away. Then, when the timer went off for pie #1, I removed both pies.  I commented to Blair that the second pie did not look good, but it didn't dawn on me until more than an hour later what the problem was.

For all my efforts, I got butter on the floor, crumble mixture of the coffee pot, and a pie that looks like a 5-year-olds first effort.

The heck with it. Slice and bake cookies--that's my forte. I bake a mean sugar cookie with a Christmas tree pre-dyed into the center.  

Dinner, anyone? 

I Asked For It...

Be careful what you ask for or you just may get it.  Words to live by, my friends, words to live by.

You'll note in Friday's entry that I was despairing of being a mere $230 away from meeting this year's income goal and begging for work. Well, work found me. I've agreed to take on a heinous, boring, underpaying job that--and this is the only reason I've agreed to do it--will put me over my financial goal for the year.  

I'm having trouble believing that even I am such a slave to my whims.  But the timing of the job offer was perfect and the small sum will put me over the top. I've worked for this company before and they pay promptly and each week.  So I'll  devote portions of the next 2 days to the project and submit a bill on Friday.

Yes, Santa came early this year. ;)