I could if I wanted.

Not many things make me feel as smug about my cooking skills as making my own chicken stock from a chicken I roasted myself that we ate for dinner two nights previously. Although, if I had actually raised the chicken and then slaughtered and plucked it before roasting it, that might increase my smug factor. Yes, I realize it's unwarranted. Anyone can throw a chicken carcass into a pot with unpeeled vegetables and let it simmer on the stove for four hours. But tell that to the homemaker in me and it will go unheard. So, sometimes I open the freezer and survey the individual containers each containing one cup of frozen homemade chicken stock and I sigh in satisfaction. We might get take-out pizza once a week, but those frozen containers mean I could whip something homemade and fabulous out of nothing at a moment's notice. I just choose not to.

Enough Said

And we did. 14-0

Weekend Project

Luckily, this was not my weekend project for it ended up being very involved and disgusting. It all began when I put some spaghetti down the disposal. (Note to self: not a good idea.) It clogged the pipes (or so we thought) until we (and by that I mean, my husband and his father) got under the house and saw that a pipe had rusted out. So, for who knows how long, everything that went down the drain was ending up in a sludge pool under our house. My husbands tells me, "I almost vomited under there." Anyway, after much dirty toiling, it was fixed. I am grateful that the cesspool that we were unknowingly fostering can now dry up and that we weren't forced to call an extortionist, er...plumber.

I try.

These candy filled "witches broom" bags are featured in the Martha Stewart Halloween special magazine this year. I think they are darling. I am making them for some of my friend's children who I know will be stopping by to trick or treat on Halloween. I'd make them for every child who comes by (as we don't get an exhorbitant amount), but I've failed to devote enough time or energy to finding much smaller brown bags. This broom is my test attempt. We are lucky to have a cottonwood tree in our front yard that liberally drops small branches.

Perplexing

My plant seems to be confused. It's Fall. It's cold and rainy, yet one of my gardenia plants has this blooming. I'm not complaining, I love gardenias, but last I knew they bloomed in warm weather. Perhaps this is simply a testament to my success as a gardner. However, I suspect it's simply a fluke, a lovely smelling one.

I costume the only child I have, okay?

It's likely that my cat plots my death while I am away at work because of things like this. He is large enough to wear clothing that is targeted at small dogs and I mistakenly think he will wear it with the ease of a dog. How I got a photo where he actually looks sleepy with this thing on his head, I'll never know, for he leapt up straightaway after the shot and started flailing his head until it came off. Two years ago, we got him a dracula cape which was pretty hysterical, but he deigned to wear that as well. I suppose I should admit defeat now and for every future Halloween, or else get a small dog so these costumes don't go to waste.