Crap-tastic

Growing up, we lived in 10 houses. T-E-N. Only one of those houses did we live in for more than 3 years. That's an average of a new house every 2.2 years. (dang, Chris' nerdiness is rubbing off on me)

Fast forward to married life and Chris and I have been married for 13 years and lived in 3 houses. We've lived in the current one for 6 years. I'm about to break a Cowell record here, folks.

I moved so much as a child that we never had to make updates or improvements to our homes since we just bought a new one every 2 years or so. Being here for 6 years makes me look around and see that my house is in need of some tough love. Painting needs to be done. Faucets originally installed in the house 10 years ago need to be replaced. The 1/2 inch aluminum blinds should probably be updated--although the bend slats at the ends and the clang of the blinds when it's windy is awfully endearing. Basically, I need to take our house from crap to crap-tastic.

What's intereting is that the things on Chris' updates list are nothing like those on mine. He felt the deck needed to be restained yesterday. Not on my list at all. Refinishing the wood floor in the entryway? Not even a scribble on his list. So, for the next few years, please pardon our dust as we take turns on the update list and in no particular order, fix our house.

Meatloaf?

Made it. I thought it was a bit soggy and tasted underdone. I only made half a reciepe and it was HUGE. I think this one will be on the bottom of my "try again" list. However, we have made a breakthrough that Chris said he liked it. I, however, am not cooking anymore this week so he better enjoy leftovers. For four days.

Chocolate Sheet Cake

I made it. It uses a POUND of butter--real butter. You pour a mixture of 1/2 a pound of butter and a pound of powdered sugar over the top when it comes out of the oven. Good heavens. I keep going over and admiring it on the counter. I predict I can last one more hour before a little square is removed for tasting. I'll do like my dad does: cut a piece and then shave the edges of the cake for a little more. No one ever notices.

Yum. Now that I've done 3 recipes out of the Pioneer Woman's Cookbook I figure I am semi-pioneer now. I purchased a cast iron skillet and a pie dish today. I wore an apron when making the cake. I am domestic.

Dinner Made

I made the Perfect Pot Roast and PW's Mashed Potatoes. Chris sat down and took one bite then said, "the potatoes taste weird." Thank you, dear. We're going to On The Border tonight.

Bad Cook?

Remember that movie about that blog that the chick in New York wrote about working through the Julia Child cookbook? Why can't that be me? Well, beyond the fact that I can't cook worth a lick and I wouldn't dare try Mastering the Art of French Cooking...

Here's the things said about my cooking:

1. You should be on that show "Worst Cooks in America"

2. It costs less to go out to a restaurant than for you to cook something, throw it away, then go out to a restaurant.

3. When you say "Kids! It's dinner time!" the kids go out to the van and wait for you to drive.

4. How did the apple fall so far from the tree? (my mom is an excellent cook)

I figured I'd try my hand at working my way through a good old country cookbook. There is absolutely no way I can keep up the break-neck pace of a recipe per day for a year. Perhaps one or two a week. And, I'll consider this project a complete and total success if I have just one of my kids take just one bite of anything I make. Anything. Cake, potatoes, salad. Anything.

I picked up The Pioneer Woman Cooks today during a quick Wal-Mart run. I don't know why in the world I was even in the cookbook section. Something about honest-to-goodness homestyle cooking drew me to the book. I flipped through the pages and became hungry. I also began dreaming of living on a horse ranch--but that's a whole different story.

Tonight I'm trying Perfect Pot Roast. The recipe is simple. The picture is delightful. My husband may or may not be astonished.

Get your oxygen masks.....

I know. It's been 2 years. Fasten your seatbelts and get ready to go. I'm back to blogging.