Creationism

It's that time of year again... you know, kastanienmännchen-making time. 

Uhhh, what? 

Sunday Snippets: the week, in retrospect

Exploration

This afternoon the kid and I met a friend and her little clan at our favorite neighborhood park to cheer up after putting the mister on a plane this morning, and we happened upon two other friends and their broods. It's nice knowing benevolence firsthand. 

There's little Julian loves more than the opportunity to climb on things and get some serious dirt under his fingernails, and there's little I love more than watching a certain little boy toddle around in a state of busy contentedness. We adults have much to glean from our smaller counterparts.

Happy exploring, adventurers. 

xxx,

j

Persisting Oven Woes; Thus, Pumpkin Ice Cream

The pompoenen at the market have been exceptionally beautiful the last couple weeks. Normally, I'd buy a few without hesitating and preheat my oven. 

This time of year, I dream of all things pumpkiny and baked. Unfortunately, I'm going on week five of having a defunct oven (culprit=a really slow-shipping part); I was sort of clueless in a hands-up sort of way about why else I could possibly need a pumpkin. Until I stopped sulking and started thinking. Duh. Ice cream. And to whom would I turn in such a time of desperation? David Lebovitz, that's who. Err, whom. 

Homespun Necessities: Butter

I always imagined that making butter involved a contraption large, creaking, and wooden, and a serious arm workout. Churning butter sounds so serious, and like it requires bonnet-wearing. So, as official research (yes, let's call it that) for my newly conceived series on creating kitchen basics by hand, I googled "how to make butter." What I found, friends, blew my tiny little brain. Into tiny little pieces.