What an exciting week! I don't really know where to start, so we will do this chronologically.
On Sunday morning, I was doing my normal groggy routine; wake up, stumble to the bathroom in the dark, do my bid-ness, hop in the shower. I got to the "hop in the shower" part, and my routine was severely thrown off track. When I reached down to turn on the water, something small and brown scuttled behind the curtain. "Oh, God!" I screamed and ran to the other side of the room. I inched back over to the tub and lifted the curtain ever so slightly. A small chipmunk shivered in the corner. I laughed, put on my robe, and went to ask Jamie what to do about him. She said to catch him with a blanket or towel. Armed with a fleece blanket and the desire to shower before work, I went to catch the chipmunk. He was just a little guy who couldn't even get back out of the tub. I chased him around and around with the blanket, trying to get him into a corner of a generally round tub. He skittled and scuttled, not wanting to be trapped. I finally got a firm hold on him and whisked him off to the back door. There are two cats living at my house, so I was very careful to close the door behind me. The second I released the little fella, Mr. Kitty appeared out of nowhere. I'm sure the neighbors think I am a crazy person, out on my deck in the early morning, wearing a robe, screaming at the cat and carrying on. Luckily, my chipmunk made it up a tree first. Mr. Kitty kept watch for ten minutes before getting bored and stalking after something else.
Don't know if I've said it before, but my roommate Hanna is on the Woman's National Rugby Team here at Penn State. Last Wednesday, she came home from practice with a swollen black eye. I hadn't seen her since, because she had the Big 10 Tournament over the weekend. She came home on crutches, but Penn State won so she is happy. The sprained ankle and black eye make her look like a battered girlfriend. Jacob likes to go out in public and tell people she talked back to him if they ask what happened.
Yesterday, Jacob came to my house with a giant pumpkin. Last year, we baked and pureed a pumpkin that gave us no less than 5 tupperware containers full of puree. It lasted us clear through December. I believe this gourd is larger than the last one. We got 5 and a quarter, but I don't think that is accurate. Once this pumpkin was out of the oven and semi-cool, my roommates, Jacob, and I started picking at it and eating with our fingers. Even with nothing on it or mixed in, it was the best tasting thing I have eaten in weeks. I snacked the entire time I pureed. Last year, we were using a blender and a spatula, in much the same way my dear mother used to do it. And in much the same way as my mother, I ended up getting the spatula caught in the blades and had to pick plastic chunks out of the puree. I am so happy to have my current roommate, Hanna, who came fully equipped with a food processor. Not only did it take a quarter of the time than with a blender, there was no need to push the pulp from the top to the bottom with a spatula. Between Hanna and me, we probably ate an entire container worth of pumpkin. After everything was pureed, we broke out her jar of raw honey and ate the quarter-container of pumpkin like it was our dessert after eating straight pumpkin for dinner. So delicious. Tonight, we feast on vegan pumpkin soup and pumpkin cake rolls. I feel like, with my roommates also cooking with this puree, this pumpkin will not last until December.
Special thanks to my crazy vegan sister, Leah, for helping me make more of my recipes vegan-friendly so I can feed my crazy vegan roommate, Hanna.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Labor Day Weekend
For Labor Day weekend, I was really hoping to go down to Pittsburgh to visit Chelcy and meet her new husband. Unfortunately, Chelcy has lost her cell phone telephone and did not check her internets until Saturday night. A bit too late to plan a weekend, I believe. Both of us are greatly disappointed. Jacob and James did their part to cheer up the whole event, though.
After I got off work on Saturday, the three of us made chili and watched the Penn State vs. who-cares-what-team-we're-playing game. Penn State totally dominated. I think our score was in the high 30's, and their score was 7.
Jacob has a great recipe, which he keeps to himself, for making chili. It's becoming sort of a game-day tradition for him to make. I help where I can, with the peeling or chopping.
James, for some reason, gets to watch the game while Jacob and I slave away in the kitchen. He kept flipping back and forth between the Penn State game and the Naval Academy game. Both his teams won, and he was happy.
It was rather odd to only have the three of us on a weekend. There was leftover food, there were things to drink, we could actually hear the game. I may be saddened if people start coming over to watch it at the boys' house.
On Sunday, Jacob decided we should drive the 40 miles down to Altoona to check out their shopping center. He wasn't quite sure what exit to take, as there are three exits. Needless to say, we ended up missing the one we wanted which happened to be the last one to Altoona. We took the next exit instead, but there ended up being nowhere to turn around and no other connection between the two highways. 20 minutes later, we found an exit that allowed us to turn around so we could get back to I-99, so we could take the exit to the mall. Quite an adventure.
After going through all the stores, I ended up with a belt and a new green sweater for the upcoming cold months. Jacob got a belt buckle, a jacket, and a new pair of shoes. On our way home, we decided to take the exit before our usual N. Atherton St exit, which is marked with a simple "Waddle." Assuming it meant Waddle Road, the road parallel to Atherton Street, we took the exit. 15 minutes and a winding road later, Jacob called James to figure out what road we were on and where we ended up. Turns out Waddle is also the name of a neighboring town. I had told Jacob at least three times that we should turn around and take the N. Atherton St exit. He was having a great time driving and was enjoying the road we were on, though. We ended up near Bellefonte, which is 15 miles away from State College. Another great adventure and a lot of fun.
On Monday, James decided to go to the Rothrock State Park. Neither of us has been, neither knew the way, but James knows the roads and the general directions. We were really hoping for a road sign to tell us where to turn to get there. Indeed, there was a sign, and we got onto a small gravel road which told us the picnic area and campgrounds were 6 miles away. 6 miles takes an awfully long time when the car is only traveling 15 mph. We eventually made it there, in one piece.
It was a lovely little spot, and we decided our friends need to go up and have an afternoon barbecue before the weather gets to cold. There was a sign for that, too. No alcohol. Maybe this isn't the place for all our friends.
We ended up near a small pond, and nowhere near the lake/reservoir on the map. It was cute and quiet and full of foresty charm. There was a beaten path that went a little way down the stream.
James and I walked down the little path along the little stream. The quiet of the forest was only broken by my childlike squeals of delight at finding an entire nest of water-skeeters with more little bugs than I have ever seen in my life. I love water-skeeters.
The sign told us there is no camping allowed in the picnic area, but this spot is too perfect! There is a mossy bank protected by trees that was super soft and rock/branch/root free. I shake my fist at that sign and declare that I will pitch my tent on that bank someday.
We tried to walk the whole way around the pond, but the north end proved to be the water source and therefore very muddy. Instead, we walked halfway around. It started raining a bit while we were on the other side of the pond. Not wanting to be caught in the rain on a winding gravel road, our little adventure was cut short. Totally worth it, though.
After I got off work on Saturday, the three of us made chili and watched the Penn State vs. who-cares-what-team-we're-playing game. Penn State totally dominated. I think our score was in the high 30's, and their score was 7.
Jacob has a great recipe, which he keeps to himself, for making chili. It's becoming sort of a game-day tradition for him to make. I help where I can, with the peeling or chopping.
James, for some reason, gets to watch the game while Jacob and I slave away in the kitchen. He kept flipping back and forth between the Penn State game and the Naval Academy game. Both his teams won, and he was happy.
It was rather odd to only have the three of us on a weekend. There was leftover food, there were things to drink, we could actually hear the game. I may be saddened if people start coming over to watch it at the boys' house.
On Sunday, Jacob decided we should drive the 40 miles down to Altoona to check out their shopping center. He wasn't quite sure what exit to take, as there are three exits. Needless to say, we ended up missing the one we wanted which happened to be the last one to Altoona. We took the next exit instead, but there ended up being nowhere to turn around and no other connection between the two highways. 20 minutes later, we found an exit that allowed us to turn around so we could get back to I-99, so we could take the exit to the mall. Quite an adventure.
After going through all the stores, I ended up with a belt and a new green sweater for the upcoming cold months. Jacob got a belt buckle, a jacket, and a new pair of shoes. On our way home, we decided to take the exit before our usual N. Atherton St exit, which is marked with a simple "Waddle." Assuming it meant Waddle Road, the road parallel to Atherton Street, we took the exit. 15 minutes and a winding road later, Jacob called James to figure out what road we were on and where we ended up. Turns out Waddle is also the name of a neighboring town. I had told Jacob at least three times that we should turn around and take the N. Atherton St exit. He was having a great time driving and was enjoying the road we were on, though. We ended up near Bellefonte, which is 15 miles away from State College. Another great adventure and a lot of fun.
On Monday, James decided to go to the Rothrock State Park. Neither of us has been, neither knew the way, but James knows the roads and the general directions. We were really hoping for a road sign to tell us where to turn to get there. Indeed, there was a sign, and we got onto a small gravel road which told us the picnic area and campgrounds were 6 miles away. 6 miles takes an awfully long time when the car is only traveling 15 mph. We eventually made it there, in one piece.
It was a lovely little spot, and we decided our friends need to go up and have an afternoon barbecue before the weather gets to cold. There was a sign for that, too. No alcohol. Maybe this isn't the place for all our friends.
We ended up near a small pond, and nowhere near the lake/reservoir on the map. It was cute and quiet and full of foresty charm. There was a beaten path that went a little way down the stream.
James and I walked down the little path along the little stream. The quiet of the forest was only broken by my childlike squeals of delight at finding an entire nest of water-skeeters with more little bugs than I have ever seen in my life. I love water-skeeters.
The sign told us there is no camping allowed in the picnic area, but this spot is too perfect! There is a mossy bank protected by trees that was super soft and rock/branch/root free. I shake my fist at that sign and declare that I will pitch my tent on that bank someday.
We tried to walk the whole way around the pond, but the north end proved to be the water source and therefore very muddy. Instead, we walked halfway around. It started raining a bit while we were on the other side of the pond. Not wanting to be caught in the rain on a winding gravel road, our little adventure was cut short. Totally worth it, though.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Bring Him Home
As many of you may have heard, I received a free piano from a lady who was moving and didn't want to take it with her if her son was no longer going to play. She had received it free from an elementary school, so she passed it on in much the same way. It's missing some keys, pretty dinged up, old as the dirt itself, and in desperate need of a good tune. But it's mine, and I'm happy to have a piano.
This is for my mom.
This is for my mom.
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