Mindless Ramblings On A Rainy Sunday

Though it was beautiful this morning, it is now raining "crackley rain" as Abby calls it. I picked some more Coltsfoot this morning and it's now in the dehydrator, it has escaped from the raised bed and is creeping in the grass around the bed so I picked most of that.

I made 2 Shaker Lemon Pies from scratch yesterday and they were OK, but I wouldn't want to live on them (a favorite expression of my Dad's). The crust was good though, rich and flaky! It's funny but I almost never bake pies, though my Mom did a lot when I was growing up. They really aren't that much work, why don't I bake them more? I'll have to remember to make a bigger effort in the future.

I also made bread to go with the beef that's been boiling all day. Tender beef along with boiled carrots and potatoes with gravy and fresh bread is a wonderful meal! For a long, long time I didn't have bread pans so I baked on my cookie sheet, then I got some pans but I didn't like baking in them by that time so I never use them anyway. :-)

I took a few pictures of the 2 littlest girls on their bikes today, they went racing out after church to get some rides in before the rain hit.

I've been working on a BIG project that I can't wait to show you, but I want to be finished first. I'm pretty excited about it, it's *so cool*! :-)

Ode On A Potato Masher

Ode On A Potato Masher

Lovely potato masher, though art sweet and fair
Thy graceful handle with paint nicked and chipped
Thou makest my potatoes as light as air
And deliverest turnips all buttered and whipped
Praise the humble tool
Thou art my kitchen jewel

Electric beaters, family feeders, all sleek and new
Mash they none better, yea but faster
Rendered thee obsolete, no longer cool
But in my humble kitchen thou art master
A salute to vintage tools, all tried and true
“Made in China” doth pale in comparison to you

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An "ode" is supposed to have 3 stanzas but my muse left me high and dry and I struggled just to get the 2nd stanza written. But howsoever that may be, I'm sure than the spontaneous breaking into song or poetry upon seeing a beloved kitchen appliance cannot be a foreign occurrence to my dear readers. :-)