A little advice.

Take it from me.

Don't let your four-year-old watch TV channels with commercials. Stick with Nick, Jr. (formerly known as "Noggin") or PBS. Skip Nickelodeon, the Disney Channel, any of the major networks, etc.

Trust me.

I cannot complain. I have one of the most easygoing kids on the planet. Even when it comes to Christmas. There wasn't really any toy that was on his wish list for Christmas, but since he is getting very interested in reading and writing, I realized a toy that would be perfect for him and planted a few little ideas into his head. Sure enough, it worked, and when I would ask him what he was going to ask Santa for for Christmas, he repeated almost verbatim what I had told him about -- "a book that has games, Mama!".

Perfecto.



Because I had already bought this little lovely for a bargain-basement price, wheelin' and dealin' with my coupon skills. Got it half-off the sale price actually, and got several books to go with it also at bargain-basement prices with more coupons. (I paid less than half for all of the items, AND had it all done BEFORE Thanksgiving even! Go me!)

And then one of us screwed up and let him watch a movie we DVR-ed off the TV, something off the Disney Channel that HAD COMMERCIALS.

Oops.

And thus his love affair with the Crayola Glow Dome was born.



Which he threw in there yesterday when I took him to see the big fat man in the flesh. "Santa, I want a glower" was his exact phrasing.

To quote my own boy, "Wat you say????!!!!", my overconfident-because-this-Santa-already-had-Christmas-in-the-bag-so-to-speak self was thinking. In fact, I was so happy that I wouldn't have to be one of those parents -- you know the ones having to fight over this year's most popular toy like a dumb Zhu-Zhu Pet or something. (Although I am sending out a big high five to my cousin right now, since I know she was one of those poor parents bidding on eBay for the dumb hamster toy.)

Well, no sweat, I thought. The coveted Glow Dome is on sale at Target this week, so I'll just run by there and pick one up. I did my research and checked online to see if it was even available, and according to the website, three stores were supposed to have it in stock.

Fast-forward to this morning, almost two and a half hours after starting out, several phone calls to every store in the city (and not just Target), I finally located one at a Michael's store. There were actually two left when I got there, so I snatched them up (the second will be perfect for a cousin his same age).

And no, they were not near as cheap as from Target.

And yes, I am a bit cranky after the whole experience.

And no, the boy will not be watching any TV channels with commercials between now and December 25th.

Don't let this happen to you, kids. Don't let this happen to you.

Even I couldn't escape Black Friday.

Did you get out and brave the crowds yesterday?

One of the most memorable Black Friday's I can remember was when we were up in Minnesota. My friend, Michelle, dragged me around with her, and we had a lot of fun. I distinctly remember how stinkin' cold it was (I'm sure it was probably only around zero or in the low teen's, if that, at 3 or 4 in the morning). There was snow on the ground that Thanksgiving. And I remember sitting in the warm car in the wee hours of the morning with her snoozing baby girl in the carseat while she ran into Menards for something on her list. I can still hear that Menards' jingle in my head to this day, even though we don't have any Menards down here in Okie-Land. Sometimes my husband and I break out into song, singing that jingle just for a laugh between us.

In the last few years, I've been almost scared of Black Friday. The crowds, the chaos, the lines, the parking lots, and having to get up so gosh darn early -- yuck! This year I sent my husband and boy to do the dirty work, since they were venturing out anyway, albeit hours after all the crazies had gotten started. There was only one item on my Black Friday list, and they didn't have to get up early to get it, although they did apparently get the last one in the store in the cobalt blue color I wanted.



a Martha Stewart Collection Cobalt Enameled Cast Iron Round Pot, 2.75 quarts

It was normally $69.99 at Macy's, but on sale for $24.99, one of the "Doorbuster" deals. Compare it to the original Le Creuset brand that sells for around $110 for the same size, and you've got yourself a pretty good deal there. In fact, I might go back later today and get the next size up, 5 quarts, for around $50 (with the Macy's coupon). It runs around $220-250 in the Le Creuset brand! Highway robbery, I tell you.

Now that I've gotten back in touch with my inner domestic diva, I've been cooking a whole lot. As in we don't eat out for the majority of our meals anymore. It's been great for the budget, great for the health, and just fine for the waistline. (My mantra has always been: I would much rather be happy and chunky than starving and skinny.) I've always wanted to buy a fancy dutch oven, but like I said before, those Le Creuset ones are way too pricey. Even the Paula Deen brand one I was eyeballing at Walmart (in the bigger size) is something like 70 or 80 bucks! Thank goodness for Martha Stewart. Who would've thought she'd produce something so much more affordable?

In fact, speaking of cooking, this morning I whipped up a delicious breakfast for us, since my cookbook from Serena arrived last week, and I was itchin' to test it out. She was so sweet not only to send me the cookbook, but she also signed it! How cool is that?! I'm convinced our breakfast tasted that much better since I was using the recipe out of a signed copy. I made the "Apple Puff Pancake".




(Thanks to Flickr for the image.)

You can click here for a write-up about the cookbook that has the recipe at the end of it. So easy, and delicious, especially with real maple syrup (thanks to my husband for picking me up a new bottle of that delicious goodness). We had enough for breakfast for the three of us for both today and tomorrow.

Now to dream up what the first meal in my new piece of cookware is going to be...

Bohemian Rhapsody

Thanks for this one goes out to the zany Michelle with her brilliant taste in music videos.

This is for all of you who grew up in the Muppet generation like myself. I know, I know, two days in a row of crazy Muppets, but I mean, really, who doesn't love the Muppets?!

A Thanksgiving Tale

We learned a valuable little lesson over at our house this Thanksgiving Eve.

Don't clean your oven the day before you're planning to roast a big ol' bird.

You'd think we would have been smarter than this, but nope.

Let me just say, our oven was nasty inside. Doggone, nasty. Caked with burnt offerings on every side. In fact, last Thanksgiving even, I remember being worried about the turkey not smelling so great due to the other stuff that was burning on the sides every time the oven was on. Oh yeah, so I guess that's Confession #1: we're big fat procrastinators. Don't judge.

So anyway, on Tuesday, I asked my husband to pick up some oven cleaner at the store, and he brought home a can of lemon-scented "Easy Off" oven cleaner that was supposed to work overnight. Easy Off did it's job because when we opened the oven door yesterday morning, there was black grime everywhere ready to be wiped off. Mission accomplished.

But did we clean it off that morning? Nope. Since my husband said he would finish it, I kind of just forgot about it since I wasn't using the oven yesterday, and last night, I had to gently nag him a few times to remind him that it needed to be clean before we got up in the wee small hours of the morning to roast the bird. Grudgingly he got up, opened it up, and wiped it down. Finally -- a clean oven! However, the fumes were pretty strong still at that point, and we wanted to make sure it was all completely out of there before firing it up for the turkey this morning, so he turned on the "self-cleaning" mode and let the oven do it's job to finish it up and burn the rest off.

I personally had no experience cleaning an oven (obviously, since I let it get as filthy as possible in there before the thought entered my mind), which I suppose is Confession #2: I've never cleaned an oven before, but it sure didn't seem right when about an hour later the house smelled like all sorts of burning nastiness. (Don't worry, that is apparently quite normal, but even so, a burning house smell was not exactly reassuring since the bird was supposed to go in there around 6am or so for roasting.) We decided to turn it off, and when I tried to unlock the door, it wouldn't budge. Not a problem, my man reassured me. It's locked up because the oven heated itself up so high to self-clean, so it will unlock sometime when it cools down enough. Go to sleep, it will be ready in the morning. Which I did. The third year of turkey roasting experience will do that to you. If this had been the nervewracking virgin year of turkey roasting? Yep, I wouldn't have been able to sleep.

Fast-forward to this morning. I woke up while the world was still dark (5:56am) and heard rustlings in the kitchen. Since my alarm was going to go off at 6am anyway, I shuffled into the kitchen to see what my husband was up to. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I found the oven apart from the wall, my husband lying on the floor on his back as if he was about to change the oil under the hood, and yeah. Hmm. Okay.

With a smile on his face, he told me how he woke up at 3am to let the dog out to do her business, and he figured, what the heck, I should just get the oven ready now while I'm up. Sure enough, he said, the lock wouldn't open on the oven. And we don't have an oven manual -- the previous owners didn't leave that for us. So he did what any heroic, nerdy, technical-guru husband would do -- he started googling.

In the span of three hours he not only googled our oven, he downloaded and read through the manual (to no avail), and ended up paying $45 online for the help of a technical superhero by the name of "Chad", who apparently was retired from Jenn-Air and had a nighttime gig helping people online. People like my husband, who call at 4am the morning of Thanksgiving, begging someone to please help them out before their wife wakes up to roast a twenty-two pound bird in their oven that is locked up and stinky so as not to disappoint the other twenty or so guests at the Thanksgiving table. People like my husband, who wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of possibly having to call his mother-in-law at 5am and asking if we could drive over with a big bird strapped down in the front seat to use her oven all morning.

Even with the assistance of good ol' "Chad" from JustAnswer.com, it took them both a while to figure out how to get that dang lock undone on the oven. My husband said it finally unlocked after "Chad" suggesting that he flip the switch to "self-clean" as fast as he could and back off to see if it would unlock. Who wouldda thunk it? Thank the good Lord above it worked, and not only was it fixed right about when I walked in the kitchen at 5:56am, but it was already preheated to 275-degrees. And sparkling clean. And not only was it sparkling clean and preheated to my specifications, but it smelled divine, just like roasted marshmallows. Apparently "Chad" suggested that my husband mix up a little water, sugar, and vanilla, and bake it to remove the burning smell from the house, which, of course, worked like a charm. And pulling out the oven meant my husband was able to find a very nasty paper towel that was the culprit in clogging up the vent, which had never worked very well since we bought the house. So the venting issue was solved as well.

Way to go, baby. Way to go.

So our little tale ends in a happy way. The bird is roasting, and my house is slowly filling with the scent of a delicious-36-hours-brined bird, and I'm thinking it's safe to say there will be twenty-plus people happily filling their stomachs later on today. And my oven is in tip-top condition.

But let my little cautionary tale serve as a warning. And maybe, after reading this little story, you'll savor each bite of that turkey in your mouth just a little bit more.

Happy Turkey Day to you. And a very happy Turkey Day to you, "Chad", wherever you are.

Thankful.

This Thanksgiving I am thankful for...

health

family

friends

crafty fun

blogs

blogger friends (who are all real friends!)

pets

music

Peppermint ice cream ;)

Christmas cards already ordered last week and (hopefully) on their way, soon to be stuffed into envelopes and sent out

Christmas shopping that has already been halfway accomplished!

church

Jesus (not just a token answer, but the most important thing I am thankful for)

my husband's job

gorgeous weather

laundry that is done and put away

saving money

quilting

time

the big, juicy bird roasting in my oven

and so very much more...

Here's wishing you and yours a wonderful Thanksgiving. Harry and Sally also wish you a delicious turkey dinner followed by a catnap with the ones you love...




And for your Thanksgiving viewing pleasure...

Popeye would be proud.

Because it is Thanksgiving tomorrow...

and because I love each and every one of you, dear readers...

I thought it would be the perfect time to post one of my new favorite recipes.

Which you must promise me you will make immediately.

The first time I made this, I put in too much orzo pasta. I thought it was bland, too much like a casserole instead of a soup, and just meh. Thankfully I tried it once more last night, and it turned out perfectly.

And oh, is it ever good. I had it for dinner last night. With seconds. And for lunch today. And I'll happily eat it for dinner again tonight. Which is huge in my book, since I'm not usually a fan of leftovers for anything.

Here you go...



SPINACH AND LEMON SOUP WITH ORZO
(serves 4-6)

2 tablespoons olive oil
4 garlic cloves, smashed or minced
1 large onion
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes (or more, depending on your taste)
1 package frozen spinach, thawed and drained of excess water
1 1/2 cups of orzo (*I only used 1 cup and it was perfection)
8 cups chicken or vegetable broth (I used chicken)
4 eggs
Juice of 3 lemons
Fresh parsley, chopped (to serve)
Fresh-grated Parmesan (to serve)

Heat the olive oil in a large heavy pot or Dutch oven. Cook the garlic and onion over medium heat until fragrant and slightly translucent. Turn the heat to medium high and add the red pepper flakes, spinach and orzo. Cook for about a minute, then add the broth. Bring to a light simmer, then turn the heat down and simmer for about 15 minutes, or until the orzo is just barely tender. Take the soup off the heat and let it cool down for a moment or two.

Whisk eggs vigorously in a largish bowl, then whisk in the lemon juice. Whisk for a couple minutes; the mixture should be thick, pale yellow, and creamy. Add a small ladleful of the soup broth to the eggs and whisk vigorously. (If you want to be really sure not to curdle the eggs, take a ladle of soup and cool it a bit before tempering the eggs.) Whisk in two more ladles of soup broth, whisking each well and letting them cool. Add the egg mixture to the soup pot, whisking very well. REturn to very low heat, stirring the whole time. Cook carefully over low heat until the soup has thickened slightly. Serve immediately, garnished with parsley and Parmesan if desired.

(Thanks to The Kitchn for the recipe and photo.)

Kids, I am telling you, this stuff is delish. Even the four-year-old boy gobbles it up. But then again, he eats anything and everything and is the world's most NOT-picky eater.

And this soup, of course, goes perfectly well with Blue Bell Peppermint ice cream. Which there now may or may not be four half-gallons of in my freezer. Sorry, but it was on sale, and I had coupons.

Now I'm off to turn over that turkey in the brine solution. It's been 18 hours, and it's time for that turkey to get all brined up on the other side for another 18 hours. With a twenty-two pound bird, it is a two-person endeavor, so I'm off to bug my husband...

I know you've missed the random...

...so here you go.

***

Hmmm....seems like I missed two more days of NaBloPoMo. Oh well.

***

Today I received the biggest compliment of my musical career. It was the last day of another six-week session of ballet with another elementary school. Once a week for the past six weeks we had two classes come in to the studio for an introduction to ballet, and the second of the two classes was partially filled with deaf education students. They are always my favorite. It is remarkable how they are able to learn and beautifully execute the ballet moves just as well as any of the other students even though they are unable to hear the music to help keep time.

At the end of class all the girls were giving out hugs and goodbyes to the ballet instructor and to myself. The student teacher came up to me and told me that one of the girls who is completely deaf came up to her and signed to her that my piano music was beautiful. The student teacher was a bit puzzled since she knew that the girl couldn't hear the music at all. But the girl told her that she could feel the vibrations through the floor and that it WAS such beautiful music. The student teacher also told me that this little girl isn't prone to handing out compliments, so she knew that it was genuine.

When the student teacher told me this, I could have just melted into a puddle on the floor, right then and there. I will never forget this compliment as long as I live.

***

There's a twenty-two pound poor naked bird sitting in my fridge, waiting for the brine solution to cool so I can drown it for the next 36 hours. This will be my third year of bird-roasting, thanks to none other than good ol' P-Dub. My house is already smelling divine after boiling the brine solution, and you know, come Thursday, it's really going to be smelling good!

I can hardly wait for Thursday!

***

And I'm not too proud to tell you that earlier today there were exactly three half-gallons of Blue Bell Peppermint ice cream sitting in my freezer. And I might have to go back to the store tomorrow and pick up at least one more since it is my absolute favorite. I've been limiting myself to one scoop a day, so hopefully it will last a while...

So, if you see me in the next month or two and think, hmm, looks like that girl has been putting on a little weight, well, just keep it to yourself. Ice cream makes me happy, okay? ;)