Yep, I'm a housewife.
Take a look at the proof below. Monday I canned garden salsa. Yesterday I made a three-layer, devil's food dream-of-a-cake and a two-layer Boston Cream Pie for the birthday of one of John's co-workers. Today I made two loaves of oatmeal bread and two loaves of zucchini bread. The oven poured out infernal heat, but I, Abigail the Housewife, spread my superhero's cape...er... (apron) to the skies and pressed on.
Call the papers! Line the streets! Spread the word!
A time like this may never come again.
(And if you want recipes, let me know. May I recommend the three-layer, devil's food cake? The frosting has only three ingredients-- heavy cream, semi-sweet chocolate, and a smidgen of corn syrup. An Abigail's dream.)
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On Tuesday, the girls and I took off for the fountains, which was a well-deserved break for the two sweet girls who've been jailed indoors far too frequently in this hanging-on summer. We're having a Chief Indian of Indian Summers, and I'm glad of it. The garden still gives us beans, sweet and hot peppers, a few zucchini and summer squash, and loads of cherry and large tomatoes, so I need not bring out the swaddling sheets yet. No frost to fear!
It will be good, though, when autumn arrives.
The mere thought of autumn's wind and color makes me glad.
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I have no Baby Blueberry Apple news to share. I plumb forgot about my midwife appointment on Tuesday (or was it Wednesday?) until a call came telling me to reschedule. I anticipate hearing the whooshing "whumpita, whumpita, whumpita" of a baby's life surging forth to fill the room's dead space.
I have belly news, though!
1. It's large.
2. Mighty, mighty large.
3. And it's getting larger.
(That's the news.)
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Workin' John's at school tonight, the girls are in bed (note- I did not write, "The girls are sleeping"), and I sit listening to Bonnie Prince Billy, whose voice and melodies, without effort, fill me with good memories. My brain is addled by zucchini bread. It's time to stop courting the computer; it's time to rest silently and listen.
Oo Oo OOH! That all sounds so scrumptious-how dare you ask whether or not we want recipes? That one bread looks amazing, the oatmeal?....definately need that one. I will make it for my new sister in law! She and Nathan LOVE stuff like that.
ReplyDeleteYou ARE an extraordinary housewife...ESPECIALLY if you made those breads in the oven instead of a bread machine!
Yippee for the belly news! I finally scheduled my first appt. for Sept. 27th. Not that I need it physically, just that my curiosity is getting the best of me. I hope I can convince the dr. to give me an ultrasound...I never quite got the whole eyelash flashing trick down....
I have no bread machine, which is why we haven't had much homemade bread this summer. The thought of heaping more heat upon our already stifling apartment cowed me completely!
ReplyDeleteI'd never made this particular Oat Bread before, but I lost (temporarily, I hope) my favorite Honey Oat Bread recipe and had to find a substitute. It is yummy, especially fresh out of the oven, like all homemade breads. Do you want the recipe posted here, or shall I email it to you?
And I can't believe that you never got the "eyelash" thing down. You reeled Matt in pretty masterfully! I have barely visible eyelashes, but John's are luscious. Hey, maybe Matt used his eyelashes to reel you in masterfully!
oh! and hurrah for your belly! I look forward to hearing the news. If you have twins, will you let the world know, or leave it a secret until they come out?
ReplyDeleteI had always thought that an Indian summer was a summer after a cold snap, like a week or so of fall weather (including a frost or two). I didn't realize it counted if it was being warm when it was supposed to be cold, even if no cold had come yet. At any rate, the Chiefly-ist of Indian summer that I remember included upper 60s weather in early December, washing off potatoes with the hose, and still wearing short-sleeve shirts. And the petunias were still blooming on the porch. That was an odd year!
ReplyDeleteThe color is begining on our hills, and we have had fear of frost a few times in the past weeks, so maybe we're a bit ahead. I love fall, but I always rather dread it's coming, because it means that winter is right behind, and winter means the rough equivilant of having a metal pot pulled over your head whilst a bunch of little kids pound on it. Alternatively, it is like being drownded in darkness. To escape it, I am driven to daily walks in cold and wet, the thin, biting air driving away all warmth, but at least getting some pale sunshine. This affords a few more hours of sanity, where the fact that you are warm and dry is reason enough to be happy, and the fresh (though sometimes tormenting) air has washed much of the stuffiness out of your system.
Also, going to Weather Underground, and counting how more seconds of daylight we've gained. Although that might be a sign of losing sanity, not a means of keeping it.
Titi,
ReplyDeleteTechnically, I think you're right about the definition of Indian summer, but I like the term so much...please forgive.
I assume your December summer came while you lived in Purdy Valley? If so, I'm not that surprised because you've primed me with stories of other strange weather (tho' this may be the strangest yet). Honestly, one of you needs to write a true tall-tale children's book about your weathering the weather! Every time you write about it, I can't help but think of Mr. McBroom's farm and his passel of red-headed children.
You probably do have little kids banging on your head in truth during wintry weather! Your analogy seems apt, as is your description of winter escape. Some of my favorite wintry times were spent alone slowly freezing in the woods, savoring the hush that falls over everything after a new snowfall. And sometimes, glorious sometimes, the sun breaks through in a fury, pushing aside its pale mien with a fiery spirit!
Lastly. Um. I think checking for seconds of daylight is the sign of a desperate soul! :)
Abby,
ReplyDeleteI'd also love to get the Oatmeal Bread recipe from you! And when you find your favorite Honey Oat Bread recipe, I'd like that, too! Please!!!!
Will do, Leah!
ReplyDeleteAnd I will hunt that other recipe down tomorrow hopefully.
And Titi,
Did you ever give me an Oat Bread recipe? I seem to recall one and wanted to try it on whatever day it was that I made the other, but I couldn't find it anywhere. Hm.
I thought you had the better understanding of the term, and mine was only imagined. But, yes, it did happen while living in this valley. 1996, as best as we can remember.
ReplyDeleteWhat is the proper title (and maybe author)of the Mr. McBroom book? I have to get it out of the libray. But I think you'd be the better one for writing the children's book about our weather--I'll supply the true tall tales, but I don't know how to properly turn it into an amusing story.
And I only sort of sent you an oat bread recipe. I'm comfortable enough with bread now that I frequently "wing it", and my oatmeal bread is one of my wing it recipes. I will resend it, but you might not find it that useful, particularly since it is scaled to fill 6 9x5 bread pans, which is probably more than you make. Though you can freeze the extra's, that's what I do. Sometimes I even cut the loaves in half before I freeze them.
I guess you have your answer for the bread thing....post em here and it would be easier for all!
ReplyDeleteThat is an interesting concept-waiting to let everyone know we are having twins until they are already here....
hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Rebecca,
ReplyDeleteDon't you dare! I shouldn't have even suggested it!
Titi,
The author is Sid Fleischman, and here's a link. (He has a zillion red-headed children, and his farm grows corn higher than a barn overnight...)
I guess that means we're a zillion and one! If eleven kids (which is how many he has) is enough for a tall tale, then the twelve of us are lisenced tall tale material.
ReplyDeleteBut none of us is red-headed. Does that disqualify us? :)
I will try to inter-library loan it. I don't think our local library has it.
Oh! I didn't know it was written by the same guy that wrote "The Whipping Boy".
ReplyDeleteI did inter-library loan it, and a few others. Apparently there's a lot of Mr McBroom stories.