If you ever find yourself needing to cook a pot roast...

I highly reccomend that you:

-rinse it and pat it dry
-rub a ton of (sea) salt and (fresh ground) pepper into it
-sear it brown on all sides in a frying pan, in olive oil
-put it it in a baking dish
-stick about 2 yellow onions' worth of rings and a couple of crates of whole baby bella mushrooms in the olive oil pan, along with some chicken broth and beef stock
-cook that for awhile, add about 15 whole garlic cloves, and dump it all over the roast in the baking pan
-sprinkle with basil
-bake at 275 degrees for 3 hours, flipping it over in the middle of cooking so the other side can simmer in the liquid

If you really want to show off, you could pair this luscious concoction with garlic and cheese mashed potatoes and some steamed green beans.

As a total teetotaler I can't help but suggest some white grape peach juice fresh from the freezer and half frozen, on the side.

I'm just sayin'. Young children were tearing into piles of onions and fighting over whole garlic cloves. My husband had to invent a new "pound it", the Fantastic Cook pound it.


Also: cold sandwiches made with this meat for lunch the next day are amazing, to be beat only by making potato pancakes out of the cheesy garlic mashed potatoes for breakfast. Both of which help to offset the cost of this somewhat pricey but oh so worth it dinner.

(no subject)

I am ready to bust right out of my skin! Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez I do not want to try to channel this energy into fucking cleaning. Argh argh argh.

The good news is, I've abandoned all pretenses at specific strict diets and have returnedto the only thing that ever REALLY really worked for me - relying on God rather than food in times of emotional upset, boredom, exhaustion, etc. It's a lot of prayer and a lot of bible study but it's very rewarding and works very effectively. I don't think I would ever have thought to come back around to this method, sinner that I am, if it hadn't been for larger spiritual struggles going down. But here I am, and it benefits in countless ways...

Aaron's cat has finally stopped acting like a vet from 'Nam and is starting to come out from under the couches and allow himself to be touched sometimes. Aaron is beside himself with joy about it. I am relieved, I was starting to think we were stuck with a mouth to feed and litter box for cleaning attached to nothing more than a blur streaking by a couple of times a day. I feel like a cat classist, it is so glaringly obvious looking at these two cats that the terrified, jumpy, anxious cat is the rescued shelter cat, and the playful, sleeping with us, sweet cat is the socialized-daily-from-birth and generally pampered cat from a breeder. Mine has a double identity: My sweet adorable kitten is Chrysanthemum. The nutcase who scales bookshelves, pounces on the bigger cat and attacks our sleeping feet, is her alterego Roxanne. The old lady who handled Peter's adoption through PetNetwork and brought him to our house, and the guy who breeds Maine Coons that I got Mum through, are both clamoring for updates and pictures constantly. I come home every day to emails and voicemails, and while I understand the concern, I think it might be time for them both to move on.

We got a Christmas tree. It's nice and fat. I'm thinking of taking a minimalist approach due to toddlers and kittens, like maybe lights; some strung beads, cranberries and/or popcorn; a topper; and our usual Christmas cookie ornaments. I'll probably make up a big old bunch of gingerbread dough soon so we can make them in batches over the coming weeks (as they have a tendency to quietly dissapear).

The Christmas season in general is like prozac for me - just driving around with lights on houses and the city having decorated, with carols on the XM Radio, makes everything seem better.

Tediously mundane BS: our dishwasher isn't working. Our brand new stainless steel KitchenAid dishwasher, that I have raved about since it was purchased. You can't imagine the backup in my kitchen, where normally I do 2-3 jumbo loads a day.

Sidenote: You can't imagine how much I can cram into a dishwasher without compromising cleanness. All those years of Tetris were good for something after all.

At Laura and Frank's house.

I walk back in to ask a question before we head out.

Me: Laura?
Frank, from the next room: She's taking a dump.
Laura, from the bathroom: I AM NOT!
Frank: Yes she is.
Laura: No I am not!
Frank: You wouldn't admit it even if you were.
Laura: I'm PEEING.
Frank: You're so fake. (to Brian, who's laying in front of him mid-change) Why are you getting changed, Brian? Why do you need a new diaper? What did you do?
Brian: SHART!

Also, Frank is a fire fighter. Last shift while they were on the way to a call, their fire truck caught on fire. They tried to put it out with their own hose, but everytime they revved the RPMs to get water pressure, more flames shot out of the engine. So they had to call more fire fighters to put them out.