caramel delight

Halloween Party tonight! Or, should I say...Harvest Celebration! My personal opinion it doesn't really matter either way. I am no closer to worshipping Satan than I am to harvesting anything. But to each his own. Either way, October 31 is a great excuse to hang out with people!

I bought some apple juice and will use last year's Trader Joe's mulling spices to kick things up a notch. But the real excitement is the caramel sauce! I know, my life has become so, so small... :)

Okay, so I've never made candy before. Always looked like a real pain. But today is Charlie sick and asleep in bed, unfortunately unable to entertain me, so it seemed like a good chance to try something new and potentially messy.

Here's how my first attempt turned out. I won't tell you the source of the recipe because I'm sure it's not her fault. I only had a meat thermometer that went up to 220 degrees. I just had to guess when to pull it off the heat. And apparently you're not supposed to scrape the sugar into the pan that got stuck on the sides? But I did. It was bothering me. Okay, anyway... here's what not to do:

Looks like barf. Might still taste good though... hmm...

And then I thought of my newest favorite blog, and she did not fail me! Pioneer Woman, thank you for a caramel sauce recipe that is truly easy, delicious, and seems like cheating but who cares.

The result:

Well, the picture's not very good, but I will tell you I have literally been back to the kitchen three separate times now to try to lick a little more out of the pan. So, so tasty. It will be perfect on top of cider and whipped cream!

Happy October 31!

cold weather comfort

Today I have a recipe for you.

It is most definitely soup weather, and I am embracing the season. I discovered this recipe last year and have made it countless times since. Call it a hug from me to you.

One note: I would only attempt this recipe if you have an immersion blender. I have never had good experiences with hot liquid in upright blenders. If you don't have an immersion blender, get yourself to Goodwill and buy one today! They are so super handy.

Enjoy!

Potato, Leek and Bacon Soup

serves 4-6, takes about 35 minutes

2 Tbsp. butter

2 large leeks, white and pale green parts only, washed and chopped

3 russet potatoes, peeled (or not) and chopped into small chunks

1 quart chicken stock

1/2 cup heavy cream

salt & freshly ground black pepper

chopped fresh chives for garnish (I use dried and add them with the leeks)

bacon, chopped into small pieces, cooked and drained on a paper towel (I added this to the recipe for Charlie, who thinks everything is better with bacon)

In large saucepan over medium-high heat, melt butter and saute leeks until soft, about 2-5 minutes. Increase heat and add potatoes and stock and cook until potatoes are cooked through and beginning to fall apart, about 15-20 minutes at a boil. Remove from heat. Submerge the immersion blender and puree until smooth with some chunks remaining. Add cream, blend to combine, season with salt and pepper. Put into bowls and top with chives.

On another note, want to know what one of my favorite dried herbs is? Parsley. It doesn't taste like much so you can basically add it to anything to make the meal look more fancy. I am all about fancy.

apartment therapy

Our bedroom! Done!

A few days ago I was wandering despairingly from room to room - are you noticing I do this often? - because once we got our furniture situated in the correct rooms I lost all motivation to finish decorating. Every room was undone and slowly causing me mild depression. This morning I came to my senses.

I woke up and realized there was nothing personal about our bedroom. I looked around and had no sense of context. Who am I? Where am I?! I realize these questions probably have deeper roots in my current identity crisis, but I decided the temporary solution would be to hang photos.

I'll let you know if I feel more situated when I wake up tomorrow morning, but in the meantime, here's a picture of how our bedroom has turned out so far. My favorite part is that Charlie loves it. He really wanted the bedroom to be a BEDROOM, not a multi-purpose/office/sewing/craft room. And he totally feels like we did it! Awesome! Because we are still in an apartment and not our Barbie Dream House, the sewing table did end up in this room. But it's hidden, tucked away in a little alcove. Bet you didn't even see it in that first picture, did you? Well, that's partly because of the camera angle. It's not totally your fault. Don't feel bad.

Surprise!

And just so you know, finishing this project has truly relieved a lot of mental angst. So my encouragement to you is to finish something! Anything! It's a surefire way to find a little bit of joy.

Homemade Dishwashing Detergent

It all started with the homemade laundry soap. I'm not sure if I shared about that, but it's been awesome. My most recent endeavor was making homemade dishwasher detergent. For no particular reason. I'm not so concerned with the earth right now, although that is a factor, and I'm not too worried about money, although that is also a factor. It mostly just sounded fun and home-makey. And now that I have a mechanical slave called a DISHWASHER I needed something to feed it.

So I made this lady's recipe (thank you, lady). And because we had some Amazon credit I bought the Lemi-Shine (didn't feel like emptying 50 packets of Koolaid into my washer) because I think it was cheaper per unit than the Citric Acid, and we already had the Borax and Fels-Naptha because of the laundry detergent. So for me, it was really cheap. I don't know about you. I don't think like that. My friend Allie thinks like that, and she does lots of calculating on her blog. It's awesome.

I'm really tired, so I don't have much more to say about this, except that it works. Our dishes are sparkly clean and I am a happy camper.

back in the saddle

Hello again, everyone!

Our move temporarily left me without internet, as well as time to blog, but I'm back. Nice to see you.

This house is slowly becoming a home. I spent a few days pacing between rooms, sighing and shaking my head as I surveyed the chaos that was our new apartment, but with the help of family and friends I am grateful to report that I am finally starting to feel settled. Our living room doesn't look like an attic, and we actually slept in the bedroom last night. This is major progress, people.

Will you be shocked to hear that these first few days of the fulfillment of my dreams of staying at home have not been pure bliss? No, I didn't think so. I wasn't either. Given my propensity to anxiety and dooms-day-ism, my tumult the last few days isn't surprising.

Quitting work has caused me to face some really important questions: Who am I now? What do I have to say for myself? Do I need to have anything to say for myself?

"So, what do you do?"

"Nothing..."

"I am unemployed. By choice. I am not a loser."

"I tidy our house. All day."

Yeah, I am obviously having some sort of identity crisis, but I know from experience that this is usually good. God shows me where I really find my worth and value, and usually it's not in Him, and so we work through this together. Not the first time, and I am confident good will result.

The thing that has been most hard is anticipating Charlie starting full-time work in November. I am realizing that in many ways I've run to him for safety, refuge, and protection, and have viewed God, who allows suffering and therefore doesn't always seem loving, as someone to be held at arm's length. Not quite safe. Not quite the kind of refuge I want.

In the midst of my questions and doubts about God, I allowed Charlie to become my center of gravity. He is a known entity, and sometimes I have the illusion that I can control him. Not so with God. So the thought of spending less time with Charlie and more time with God has caused some real panic.

I've been in prayer the past few days about the ways I view God, the things I unfairly accuse him of, the experiences I truly don't understand, my idea that true love doesn't allow suffering. It's been a rough weekend, but I kind of knew this day was coming and in some ways was looking forward to it. The lies we believe about God are enslaving. And I know Jesus doesn't like to see us in chains. I'm excited for freedom.

This morning I'm feeling hopeful. I sat down with some cocoa and my journal and laid before God my pride and accusations. That I have called me good and him bad. That I haven't believed the promises of the Bible, that I've trusted my own conclusions instead of the truth about who he is. And I'm still praying for him to break my heart, to really feel it and give it all up.

So, here I am. Chatting with you, mentally making a list of projects, plans to be in prayer through it all. Grateful for today, for God's faithfulness, and for all of you.

onions

Tonight I ran into our bedroom crying to Charlie. I couldn't take it! Not for one more second!

I started chopping this onion and tears began streaming down my face. Some onions are okay, but this one sent me over the edge. And you know what I think is really ironic about onions? The more I cry, the less I can see - I'm talking one squinted eye at a time - and so the faster I chop and the further away from the cutting board I get. Do you see the inherent danger? I'm sure this frantic scene is hilarious to watch.

Anyway, I just had to share. I'm sitting in our room while Charlie finishes the soup. At least the onion part of the recipe. What a good man.

our house is flipping us.

If “amiability during home improvement projects” is a measure of how we’re doing as a couple…well, sigh.

Charlie and I are embarking on a home-building adventure as we move into our new apartment, which has so far included undue amounts of stress and conflict regarding paint colors, taping techniques and the amount (or lack of ) care given to things like placement of objects in a loaded car. As the less conscientious half of this marriage, I wonder why certain things matter so much to him. He, I know, often wonders the reverse about me.

We both recognize that our differences are an asset. Truly. We mostly appreciate those things that make the other foreign, and how we complement each other. Except when we don’t. And it seems that lately, in the stress of moving and so much busyness, it is easy for us to have a less high-minded view of each other and fall straight into carnal, dog-eat-dog, you-will-like-my-Crepe-paint-color-or-suffer-the-consequences types of attitudes. It’s not pretty.

Listen, I was determined not to be this couple. I have watched far too many TLC house-flipping horror shows, the way once-loving couples are slowly reduced into haggard, animalistic individuals determined to have their own way. I knew better.

But I guess I am seeing that knowing better isn’t doing better. Apparently we are susceptible to the same struggles that seem like they would be so easily avoided on tv. Who knew.

But then there’s that moment. The softening of hearts. “I love you” breaks the silence. “I actually really like how this looks. You were right.” The humbling. The repentance. Maybe we can also measure our relationship by the frequency and sincerity of these moments. The muchness of Jesus in the midst of the meanness of self.

Now, back to work!