Entry #64

Entry #64

Friday, May 4

10:45 a.m. I received a new batch of taxidermy head images via Etsy this morning, though this time they’re the animal-friendly variety, crafted out of wool. I’m almost tempted to make a display of them, the ideal décor for the bleeding-heart Texan (or shall I say, bleating-heart). Each animal even has a name, like Gretl the goat, Polly the sheep, Gregory the bull and Aurora the unicorn. I might be the only gal in Texas to have a unicorn head on my wall—that would be something. Plus, the name of the company is so fitting—Faux Fauna.

"Inspired by country living, I needlefelt little animal heads out of the last season's wool from the farm- It's a form of taxidermy, only much smaller and cuter AND there is no killing of animals or any other cruelty involved-vegetarian friendly! The family is quiet large, including moose, sheep, donkey, horse, cow, mountain sheep, goat, bear, unicorn, wolve, deer, ...whatever is out there....I am continuously " hunting" for more! (www.feltfactory.com)

Last night we went to our long-awaited cooking class, a Hubbell & Hudson (Viking School) class based on recipes from the film, The Help. Half the class had neither seen the movie nor read the book, which really surprised me, since the recipes have far more meaning if you're familiar with the story. When I inquired about the “secret ingredient” in Minny’s Chocolate Pie, for example, the chefs had no clue what I was talking about. Probably a good thing.

The students, with the exception of David, were all women (The Help is largely regarded as a chick flick, though David finally succumbed to watching it in the company of his 94-year-old grandma last March). Most of the participants wore rhinestone-studded flip-flops, some with bedazzled crosses. 

One of the women in our group took notes with a Swarovski-crystal-studded pen, had a rhinestone-encrusted phone case, and had to take off about six rings and countless bangles before flouring her hands. I looked like something out of a Breugel painting in comparison, dressed in a plain ol' t-shirt and folded up khakis—though I did remember to wear my “cake slice” necklace, something I got from a friend on my 40^th birthday. I figured it would be fitting for a cooking class.

We started out making collard greens, with fried bacon as the first ingredient. The chefs soon learned that I didn’t eat bacon, and insisted that I make a vegetarian alternative. I wasn’t that keen on eating collards again, but I must say, after cooking the life out of these greens (for more than an hour), and with the right amount of seasoning, they were actually tasty.

My personal favorite last night were the “Feather-Light Biscuits”—the most delicious, melt-in-your mouth biscuits I’ve ever tasted. David thought the fried chicken was “championship,” the best he ever had. I didn't try it, but it sure looked just like the Southern fried chicken made by Miss Minny herself.

I was happy to learn how to make authentic macaroni-and-cheese, another rich and creamy comfort food. We also made skillet cornbread, another great recipe, though I didn’t taste it because it was flavored with the bacon drippings leftover from the fried bacon. 

“Bonus recipes,” i.e., those prepared in advance for tasting (but not cooking for lack of time) included deviled eggs, sweet tea, vanilla butter cake with Never-Fail Creamy Caramel Icing, and of course, Minny’s Chocolate Pie (the untainted version). If you’d like any of these recipes, just let me know and I’ll send them your way.

 Saturday, May 5

8:00 p.m. I’m writing with hands that feel like they’ve been soaked in Comet and look equally enticing. David and I scoured the house today. Sure, it’s May, the proverbial time for spring cleaning, but the real reason for The Big Scrub were those darn fleas. Seems they’ve taken up residence here after riding atop Izzie. I thought she’d picked them up when she stayed at our neighbor's house, but we were told that since we had no winter and it's now hot and muggy, fleas are running rampant this season.

I bought the non-toxic, herbal stuff to spread around the house and the yard, but was told that it doesn’t really do much. So we had to inhale the toxic powder overnight, then wash every sheet, towel, rug and blanket in the house, followed by steam-cleaning the rugs and floor, the couch and pillows. I even scrubbed the walls and gave Izzie another flea bath. I don’t think the house has ever looked this good.

Since we’re renting, I haven’t really invested a lot of emotional energy into this place, but today it feels especially peaceful. I’ll relish this for the remainder of the evening and perhaps even a few hours tomorrow before the house reverts to its usual appearance, with strewn about shoes and balls, dog toys, piles of laundry and breakfast plates. For now, however, I’ll bask in this gleaming, flea-free (or so I hope) abode.

At dinner, David commented that at the football game this morning, Aidan was “covering [his] guy like white on rice.” “What does ‘white on rice’ mean?” asked Noah. “Well, rice is white, so...” I interjected and said, “It’s never made sense to me either.” We proceeded made up some of our own similes, which seemed to make more sense, “like a burger on a bun” or “like the white filling in an Oreo.” 

Aidan thought about this and said, “Texans seem to eat their Oreos by licking out the white frosting first and do the same thing with cupcakes.” “All Texans do this?” I asked. “Well, all the ones I’ve seen,” said Aidan.

I wonder if this impression will stick with him when someone from out-of-state asks, “So, what are Texans like?” “Well, they like to eat frosting first, no matter if they’re eating cupcakes or Oreo cookies.”

Sunday, May 6

12:30 p.m. David and I took Izzie out for a walk around 11:30 today and there were so few people out and about, David said it looked “post-apocalyptic” (without the destruction). Seems everyone was at church. That, or simply hanging out in their PJs reading the Sunday paper.

We had an entire grassy field to ourselves this morning, which Izzie loved. After watching Izzie do wheelies on the grass, David and I went on the swings. What is it about swinging back and forth, higher and higher, that ignites the pure joy of childhood? It's the simple things...