The Colorful One

Meet June. Flaming June. I really love her bold color (and I love me a good Sunday nap). I’m not a big fan of neutral. Although, funny story: this particular Lord Frederic Leighton painting of “Flaming June” is one I have long admired. A few years ago, I bought a huge print of it, and had a canvas transfer made. I thought it would add a splash of gorgeous orange to warm up a room. However, when I went in to have it framed, something that jumped out at me that I had not noticed in the small version. What the...? Something that made it impossible for me to hang in a houseful of boys. So I reluctantly sold it back to the art store. Call me squeamish, but I even Photoshopped it just the tiniest bit to post here.

I also love this one... Millais’ Ophelia.

Of course, Ophelia drowned, darn it anyway. But she certainly was beautiful in blue. *sigh*

It seems like lately I have been living in beige. Or maybe even seeing things from under water, like Ophelia. I need some bold color. Any great ideas? I hate being stuck in neutral.

write a new song
cook something spicy
see a nail-biting movie
lose 20 pounds
beat someone at basketball

???

almost anything would do.

Oh and by the way, I put links back up on the upper left of the blog, to some of the songs in the blog, in case you want to listen to any. I wrote them, and it just makes me happy if someone wants to listen to them once in awhile. All the links had expired, and at least ten... okay, fine, only four people... complained that they wanted them back. Oh grief, so one of them was related to me.

And you know me... I’m a giver. Give the people what they want.

P.S. Do NOT Google Flaming June to see what I edited out. That would be WRONG.

The One Where She Saw the Wolf

Last night about 6:00 p.m. I got a call from DK. He had asked a few weeks ago if I would cater a luncheon at his office. I didn’t think about it again… until last night when he mentioned that the luncheon was today. Surprise catering! It was like a Food Network challenge. You have eight dollars per person, and seventy people, and you are feeding them at 11:45 tomorrow morning. Oh, yeah... and don’t forget: you have one hand, and one witch claw. At least that is what one of my kids told me my left hand looks like. Nice.

So here is the menu:

Mixed Baby Greens with Raspberries and Sugared Pecans
Grilled Chicken Caesar Salad
Sun-Dried Tomato Pasta Salad
Homemade Butter Rolls
Homemade Whole Wheat Bread
Fruit
Chocolate Ganache Cake
Chocolate-Dipped Strawberries

I mapped out what I had to do before I went to bed... making the homemade croutons for the Caesar, making the rolls and the bread, cooking the pasta and making the cakes. Tasks that left a lot of down time, waiting for things to bake or rise. But yesterday a package arrived in the mail. It was the book Shiver, which I won in a blog giveaway from Debbie at Cranberry Fries. (Thanks Debbie, you made my week!) So in between cooking, baking and doing dishes, I rewarded myself with chapters of the book.

The book was even yummier than the food… I consumed all 390 pages before the last cake was out of the oven at about 2:30 a.m. And that was when it happened. It was steamy in the house, and so I took a five-minute break on the backyard swing while I waited for croutons to toast. I came in to turn out lights in the living room, and there, crouched right in front of my white slipcovered chair, was a wolf. I am not kidding you, here... it scared me so bad my knees went weak and my heart skipped a beat. I almost fell on the ground in full arrest, but then suddenly my heart kicked back in, beating about four times faster than it should have.

Funny thing. Turns out it was not a wolf, but actually a fairly innocent-looking guitar, just hanging out, leaning casually against the chair. Why, for a split-second, was it a feral wolf? Read Shiver after midnight sometime, and you will see.

And by the way, the Sun-Dried Tomato Pasta Salad was so good that they ate almost ten pounds of it... and then they used the homemade bread to sop up the last of the dressing left in the bowl. This salad is a thing of beauty. One guy told me he loved it so much he wanted to marry it. So, naturally, I figured you would want the recipe:

Lick-the-bowl
Sun-Dried Tomato Pasta Salad

The One Where She is Slightly Out of Temper; or Whitney & Morgan’s Wedding Reception

Last night was Morgan and Whitney’s wedding reception. They looked amazing and happy... I made some beautiful and delicious food, and it was very fun. This morning I woke up at 6:45, and thought, “I should sleep in… but I hurt too much!” So I got up. Used the leftover blueberries to make a sauce for some homemade pancakes. Because I think this morning is the last time the missionaries will eat breakfast in our home. Yikes!

So anyway, here are some fun pictures from the wedding, and from the prep. Have you ever seen a chocolate tempering machine? When chocolate is “in temper” then hardens quickly and looks beautiful and glossy. Chocolate which is “out of temper” has a white “bloom” and a grainy texture. You know, like when you leave a Hershey bar in the sun, and then cool it down and try to eat it… not good. So this machine takes the guesswork out of tempering chocolate. Of course I have to push its limits… cook with danger. It is what I do.



Berries dipped in chocolate… rolled in toffee…


or mini chips. Or with M’s or W’s for Mo and Whitney.



The prime rib was a huge hit, as were my very attractive helpers for the evening. The twice-baked potatoes went over well. I am still never doing them again. Ever. Don’t ask me.









Also, check out this creation: I made chocolate meringues the night before, and then the morning of the wedding I whipped up some Callebaut (good brand of Belgian chocolate) mousse, and piped it onto the meringues. They were pretty tasty. I know, because that is what I ate for breakfast. (The breakfast of champions?)



Another fun thing was the mint lemonade. Whitney fell in love with mint lemonade during her summer nursing internship to Amman, Jordan. While I realize it would have been much tastier using fresh-squeezed lemons, this was very good even made with Minute Maid concentrate. I made a simple syrup the night before, using a couple of huge bunches of fresh mint, chopped. After they had steeped in the syrup for an hour, I strained out the mint, and we used the syrup in the lemonade, along with another huge bunch of fresh mint leaves in the jar. Very tasty.



If you want any of the recipes, let me know. Just don’t ask me for the recipe for the chocolate moussecake, strawberry cheesecake or key lime pie… you will have to ask Costco for those.

The One With the Sweet and Sour

Today was not a bad day. What’s the expression? Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing? Yeah, it was that kind of day. But there were some good points.

Sweet: Moroni Chapter 10 in our family scripture reading. What does that even mean? It means we finished the Book of Mormon again today, as a family! That is pretty sweet.

Sour: I made 280 twice-baked potatoes. Ew, ew, ew. That is all I have to say about that. Well, and thank you to Cambria for scooping them all. But I still don’t want to look at another russet for a very long time.

Sweet: I don’t have to look at another russet for a very long time, because my friend Janis came over and picked up the last 40 pounds, and she is going to make the other 150.

Sour: Did you hear that Michael Jackson died? Oh no! (jk… first of all, I am not quite that behind the times, and secondly, sorry Michael, but it is probably a mercy).

Sweet: I finished one more song.

Sour: I am stuck on the next one. And I seem to undergo a crisis of faith (in myself, mostly) about every other day. I should really get over that.

Sweet: One of my fav returned missionaries called. He is awesome.

I will end on that sweet one, but I should reiterate what a bad idea it is to make 280 twice-baked potatoes at one time. It is right up there with buying sushi from a strip mall. Or letting your toddler crawl into bed with you without a diaper on. Answering the phone on Sunday morning. Need I continue?

The Mother’s Day One, Part One

The interesting thing about being a grandmother, is that you can kind of decide for yourself what kind of grandma you want to be. While this is frowned upon for mothers, it is socially acceptable to be an overly-indulgent grandmother that administers no discipline. A neglectful parent can face legal consequences, but a neglectful grandmother is just “pursuing her own interests.” It seems pretty free-form. So I look to my own grandmas for the example.

My Grandma Goodwin was born in 1896, and passed away at the age of 100. She was petite, delicate in appearance and sensibilities, ladylike and eternally useful. She sewed the most beautiful clothing. Thanks to her, I never wore a pair of pants until I was in grade school, and many autumns we would go to the fabric store, select dozens of patterns and fabrics, and Grandma would tailor an entire wardrobe of beautiful outfits for the new school year. She was very culturally refined, and as a grandmother and a person, was somewhat on the reserved side, while still making certain that we knew she loved us. As a young woman, she was a Gibson Girl, brought up her two children in Death Valley, as the wife of the first Park Superintendent of Death Valley National Park. And you thought it was hot and dusty where you live! She lived in her own apartment next door to her sister until she was well into her nineties, and as such was one of the most independent women I have ever met.

My Grandma Hamblin was born in Colonia Dublán, Mexico. As a small child, she had an infection in a bone in her leg. In order to correct the problem, four inches had to be surgically removed from the bone, leaving her with a pronounced limp, and because medical treatments of the time did not include compensating for the shorter leg, many other health problems resulted. Her later life was marked by severe arthritis, bone spurs and constant pain. But she was one of the most positive, cheerful people I have known. If I had to pick one word to describe her personality, it would be mischievous. You know how someone is said to have a “twinkle in her eye?” Grandma Hamblin actually did. She was an amazing home cook (my favorites were home-canned plums, apple pie and pasties…the meat pie kind, not the naughty underwear kind). She made beautiful quilts (until her hands could no longer cooperate) and she loved singing and reading the scriptures. My most vivid memory of her is how much she and my grandpa adored each other, and how much she loved me.

I have a lot to live up to.

The One With the Grandma Shoes

These are my grandma shoes. I wore them all day today, while I did all of my grandma stuff. I peeled apples. I prepared a church lesson (and gave it, in my matching grandma dress). I made waffles for hungry missionaries. I baked peanut butter oatmeal M&M cookies. I read stories aloud. I worked a crossword puzzle. I gave some grandmotherly advice (that sounds suspiciously like regular advice) and managed to work in the phrase, Oh, my aching bones. I did dishes, wore an apron, and tucked someone into bed. All with a twinkle in my eye, and grandma shoes on my feet. Yeah, they're four inches tall...and not that easy to walk in. But it is more important to look grandmotherly than it is to be comfortable.

Hey, I am getting good at this grandma stuff.

Recipe for Peanut Butter Oatmeal M&M Cookies