Skills

My new job as a den leader in the cub scout program has me contemplating my skills.

Very few of which appear in the cub achievements. Which is fairly tragic considering that the cub achievements are actually quite progressive and gender neutral.

I will have to work on that. Tuesday nights at seven. And all week while I try to figure out what the heck I'm doing.

In particular, I have been thinking about the Lamb Grower's years.

I did not grow lambs. Nor did I know anyone who grew lambs.

But . . . my Grandpa was retired from the Department of Agriculture/Forest Service and had an interest in Sheep Growers. He had also retired and moved next door to raise horses, but that is a story for another day.

I don't remember the actual name of the organization. It was, after all, more than 30 years ago. Which makes me feel strange when I see it in writing. Although I am usually not bothered by my age. I'll have to spend some time analyzing this later on.

I know it involved sheep, and wool. And lamb meat, which I never really developed a taste for.

I had sewing skills back in the day. Mad sewing skills, actually. Think the most complicated Gunne Sax dress around, in 5 different green calico prints. That's what I'm talking about. It was AWESOME.

I really was a skilled seamstress. And in sewing 4H. Which led to my Grammy entering me in the sewing competition at the Wool Grower's Convention. And taking me shopping for wool. And examining my seams. My Grammy was a perfectionist.

All I really remember about that event was people looking at the seams of my skirt. Grammy was right!

I think we ate lamb.

I was not wearing the skirt at the time. In case you were wondering.

There may have been a fashion show. Which I have blocked from my memory.

Do you think I could lobby for a sewing/fashion showing achievement for Wolf scouts?

Why don't we do Girl Scouts in my church?


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Hull, Mass.

Skunks, and other signs of Spring

Spring is coming to Hull. How do I know this? Because the dog groomer told me.

I walked into Sunshine Pet Parlor (I love that Yankee optimism!), and the man behind the counter greeted me with 'oh, you're not who I thought you would be.'

I replied Right? How did I turn into a middle aged woman buying designer dog food for my under-weight, over-enthusiastic golden/border collie mix?
Oh, that's not what you meant, sorry!

Actually, I just thought that. Fortunately. That might have been too much information.

The second thing out of his mouth was, 'does it still smell like skunkdog in here?'. At which I checked behind me to verify that he was, indeed, talking to me. I checked only because this was an unfamiliar question and I thought it might be more meaningful to the person standing behind me. Who did not exist. So I analyzed the question and said 'no'.

After putting the appropriate space between skunk and dog it became completely comprehensible, and, in fact it did not smell like skunk at all. Just dog, which is exactly what you expect a doggy daycare to smell like.

We continued the conversation, in which I learned he had cleaned 3 skunked dogs this week. One from my neighborhood! Another good reason to keep Milo from roaming. That, and the fact that he has absolutely no understanding of the relationship between cars and dogs.

He ended with the uplifting thought that it was a sign that Spring was coming. He is the second person this week to say that. Our neighbor said the same thing at our Con Comm meeting Tuesday night. Skunks are a sign of Spring coming.

I must admit, I was hoping for something different as a sign of Spring. Like, maybe buds on the trees, or flowers. Or less snowfall. But, I guess if skunks are the bearers of good news, I'll take them.

From a considerable distance, please. Thank you!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Hull, Mass.

Young Love

This is the cookie recipe dreams are made of.  Happily ever after cookies.  Really!

Although, I suppose, to use Really! might be a few million years premature since 'ever after' is a very long time.

But!  But, but, but . . . it has been working really well since about 1981 when I discovered it.  And 20 cookie years is a very long time in people years.  Okay, 20 years is just a very long time.  If you don't believe me ask my children.  Only half of which have achieved that momentous age.

--interesting aside.  I am typing on my iPad right now, which is challenging for my clumsy hands.  I regularly hit the 'n' key instead of the space bar which results in interesting words like ifnyou.  I am sometimes tempted to leave it, and become a country girl.  Just thoughtnI'd share that with you.  Thatnlast one really happened.  By accident!

Anyway, back in the early 80's when I was a young high school girl, I used to browse my Mom's magazines on Sunday afternoons, or whenever I didn't have a date, which was always.  Good Housekeeping, Ladies Home Journal, Woman's Day, things like that.  Next to the diet tips, they would have delicious recipes.  I don't know why, but they still do.  Anyway, I made the cookies, I loved the cookies.  I met my husband, I loved my husband, who loved the cookies, and loved me.  We served the cookies at our wedding.  And, we are living happily ever after with the cookies.  Which were my number one seller at the bakery.  The end.

Make the cookies, and you, too will love the cookies.

And, just ignore uniformed persons who ask if you ran out of brown sugar.  They do not deserve an answer or a cookie.

Enjoy!

Ingredients for Shortbread Chocolate Chip Cookies:

2 cups butter (I use the kind with salt), very soft
2 cups powdered sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon salt (unless you use unsalted butter, then use 1 teaspoon)
4 1/4 cups all purpose flour
2 cups semi sweet chocolate chips

Shortbread Chocolate Chip Cookies:

Beat the butter until light and creamy with the powdered sugar.  You cannot beat it too long, so if you have a Kitchenaid or other stand mixer, just walk away for 5 minutes and let it go.

Add the remaining vanilla, salt, and flour and continue to beat until completely combined and smooth. Another 3 to 4 minutes, or as long as necessary.  If it still falls apart, it needs more mixing.  There is nothing fragile in this recipe, so don't worry about over beating it.  It will not have good texture if you stop too soon.

In case you are still wondering . . . BEAT IT REALLY, REALLY WELL.  Sorry, I just feel very strongly about this.

--note:  this dough is stiffer than regular cookie dough, so don't be alarmed.

Once it is a soft, smooth beautiful dough, stir in the chocolate chips. In case you are wondering, I used mini chips this time. but, it's not necessary.

Place a large heaping tablespoon per cookie on cookie sheets (12 to a sheet).  Now the crazy part.  Gently smash with a fork, as though you were making peanut butter cookies.  Strange, I know.  But that's hownwe do it round these parts.

Bake for 14 minutes at 350 F.  You want the bottom to be light golden, but no color on the top.

They should taste like sweet buttery goodness in your mouth.  Soft, but not chewy.  Definitely not crunchy or crispy!  Just delicious.

I must admit, I envy you if you are eating this cookie for the first time.

Monopoly Money

Yesterday was bid return day for our addition. We got exactly one bid back.  Out of three builders.  Who still claim they want to do the job.  Hmmm, this does not seem to bode well for actual construction.  I'm guessing the bid is not the most difficult or time intensive part of the project.

Of course, with the bid estimate we just got back, there may not be a project.  The only possible way for this to happen is if they are bidding in monopoly money.  Or possibly jelly beans.  But, even that would be expensive.

The bid came in at roughly $200 per square foot.  We own the property, let's not forget.  Oceanfront property, which is supposed to be the expensive part of the whole deal.  The framing alone is $89,000.  $51,000 for materials, $38,000 for labor.

Lest you are thinking we have expensive taste in finishing work, let me set you straight.  We DO have expensive taste in finishing work, which is why we had the job bid without most of it.  This does not include the kitchen at all!  I will have to tell you later about the kitchen cabinet only bid of $42,000.  There are 17 cabinets. 

This does not include the $20,000 tile bid (uninstalled).  Or decorative light fixtures.  Or a tub in the master bath.  I could go on for quite a while.  But, I will finish by telling you that this does not even include paint.  PAINT is not included.  Why?  But, they gave us an estimate in case we would like them to paint.  That would be $22,000 for the inside.  $11,000 more if we want the exterior painted as well.

So, $200 per square foot gets us a very nice shell.  Excellent value, don't you think?

Anyone thinking of changing professions?  Or locations?  We're now accepting bids on a much smaller home addition.

What time is it?

Oh, how I wish I were a Morning Person

We get up at 5:20 at our house.  That's 5:20 a.m.  If you were confused.

Which says something about our grooming habits because Tagg leaves for Seminary at 5:30.  All personal grooming takes place in the p.m. around here.  Other than tooth brushing, of course.

This is my to do list for the hour between 5:30 when Tagg leaves, and 6:30, when it's my turn for the treadmill.

-empty dishwasher
-decide what to make for dinner, and prep ingredients (Rachel Ray style)
-do a load of laundry
-clean bathroom
-write blog
-figure out what the heck I should know about cub scouts
-arrange for world peace

This is what I do between 5:30 when Tagg leaves, and 6:30 when it's my turn for the treadmill.

-sit in the living room and stare at the tv, wishing there were more episodes of family under construction on my dvr.  Periodically I stare at Milo, who is staring at me, willing me to turn on the sun so it will be time to go to the beach.

OR

-lay on my bed thinking of reasons I can't get on the treadmill, or get up at all.

Sadly, I cannot entertain you with the creative reasons I come up with.  I have no creative thought at 5:30 am

Everything I know about pop music, I learned from watching Glee

It's true.  I am musically challenged.  Oh, I can play the piano given enough practice time, or a really simple arrangement.  I can even sing on key.  I am a perfectly competent choir type singer.

But, I produced a family of music savvy children.  They know music I have never heard of.  Music from the 70's and 80's.  Which is theoretically my pop music heyday.  Even the 60's, which was before my time.  Really.  It was!  Don't laugh at me.

They get that from their Dad, who is a pop music genius.  He is the master of song recognition from the 70's through about 2005, when he had to start devoting more of his brain cells to his career.  It happens.

And, they all love music so, so much.  They have all sorts of criteria I never consider.  And standards of quality.  And, some of them even write music.  They make it up.  They have hertofore uninvented tunes that materialize in their heads.  My children are geniuses, in case you didn't know.

Here are my criteria for good music:

--It must have a peppy tune that does not make me feel sad.
--I must be able to memorize the lyrics so I can sing along.
--The lyrics must be appropriate for me to sing along with.
--If at all possible it should be either Christmas music, from a Broadway show, or appear in a favorite movie (good movie criteria is a subject for another day)

Think The Beach Boys (before my time), Barry Manilow, Air Supply, Madonna (the early years), Harry Connick, Jr., Amy Grant, and Michael Buble.

As you can imagine, this is not one of the things my family loves about me.

And, I get to dj car trips exactly 0% of the time.

But, occasionally I hear something familiar as I scan radio stations or  hear Grammy nominated songs,

Every single time, it is because I heard it on Glee.

I'm not sure what this all says about me, but I'm guessing it's not very flattering.

Hull History, Part 2

February 10, 1911:

--Everybody is going to the Jordan party.

Yep, that's the whole thing.  End of story, apparently.

--The roof blew off the new quarters at Fort Strong during the last storm.  It takes the architect, contractor, and an army officer to look after the building, and then to have the roof blown off the very first thing.  It shows how well they all did their work.

Oh, for 1911 when sarcasm had a place in journalism!

--Capt. Sparrow, in boarding a distressed vessel in the gale, had to come back to Hull to get a ladder to go aboard the vessel.

Wait, there's the door.  I think it's Johnny Depp in dreadlocks, here to borrow a ladder.