So last evening I went into the bazaar and I looked into ovens like I had promised dad I would do. Well, I picked one out and got the necessary baking items and headed back home. It certainly seemed like it was the night to be out with the kids. The entire middle school had their class night and I ran into most of them on the way home. Aywho, the majority of that information is immaterial, much like one of those word problems from trig class. The fun comes from the fact that my neighbor had his advisor group over for dinner and whatnots as well. I knew they were still there because there was somewhere around 20 shoes outside his door.
I noticed that the lights were on low but I didn't hear a movie playing. My neighbor has decent speakers and I can hear when he has a movie going pretty easily. I was about to open my door and go inside when I heard one of the girls say something about ghosts and I just couldn't help myself. I went back over to his door and slowly opened it. Our screen doors make a nice creak when you open them. I paused for a minute to see if anyone inside was going to say something. Nothing. I then pounded on the door and was greeted to screams from the kids and barking from his dog. He opened his door and I popped in to see eleventh grade boys hugging and clinging to each other for dear life. The boy sitting in the chair right next to the door had a particularly scared look on his face. It was priceless.
In other news, I picked up some gooseberries from the market today and threw together a cobbler. I just pulled it out of the oven. It looks a bit like it might be a aqueous underneath but the top is a nice golden brown and it smells really good. We'll see what it tastes like when it cools.
13 March, 2010
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4 comments:
oh my god you crack me up! that is such a james thing to do. :)
That was mean. Where did you learn such things? You must have had an awful older brother.
The gooseberries - were they ripe = red or not = green.
Grandma Blume once told me and your mom about some gooseberry jam that she had made. Seems that her mom had told her to pick the gooseberries when they were green. So she had, but not having time at the moment to spend on processing, she put them away in her refrigerator. When she finally had time, she pulled them out and, lo and behold, they had turned red and sweet! Quite a revelation to her!!! Made great jam!!!
All that Grandma could figure was that picking them green meant that they got them prior to the birds (chickens or otherwise) got to them. At that time, Grandma was probably eighty years old.
oh, woodstock boys. hilarious. found you blog on the new website - thanks to casey. :)
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