The chief one being that I made dinner mostly from scratch tonight. Two frozen chicken breasts in the bottom of the pot, two cups of brown rice, five cups of chicken stock for the rice and another can for good measure, some dried parsley, onion powder, and granulated garlic. Set the timer for 25 minutes, then realized halfway through that the rice would need at least 20 minutes more. Which it did, and another 15, and some more while I lifted out one neatly poached chicken breast and shredded it.
Dumped that back into the pot and fished out the other one. Shredding that one went somewhat faster. I don't know if it was a learning curve thing or just a smaller piece to begin with. Stirred that all up, then the remaining half (tall) can of cream of chicken soup leftover from making funeral potatoes for the ward dinner weekend before last (hence that extra can of broth), half of the remaining jar of pimientos for a bit of color, and a big glob of sour cream.
I'm not sure what happened to the frozen peas, if I sent them home with Fourthborn one weekend, or gave them to Secondborn or somebody in the ward. I am slightly allergic to them, which is sad because frozen peas make just about anything taste better. (Well, not ice cream, but anything along the grain-and-vegetable spectrum.)
All of which meant that we ate dinner around 9:00, which should probably make me feel refined and cosmopolitan, but mostly I'm just tired. It was worth waiting for however, and I had two ladles' worth in a red latte cup. Middlest had seconds, and we still had enough left to fill four small storage containers for me and a significantly larger one for Middlest. I put the lid down on the washer, and those five containers are cooling their heels out in the garage. It's supposed to get down to 27F tonight. I think we're pretty safe as far as microbes go.
It feels as if I hadn't knitted in days. So I'm going to take care of that. Later, gators.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!