Poor Me! I ate something yesterday that did NOT agree with me. Blech. I didn't realize it at first. Of course, or I wouldn't've eaten it!! Duh.
Anywho...after school I stopped at the grocery store for milk and some chocolate to replenish my depleted stash at home. I've been keeping it at the library to squelch the temptation. NO FUN at all! After I hid the chocolate...I mean...after I put the chocolate away in it's secret place... ;o) ... I got a small piece of peanut brittle. Within 30 minutes...my tummy is bothering me and I'm (excuse me) burping peanuts. I haven't had indigestion in a loooonnngggg time! But, I keep a package of Zantac in the cabinet. Got one. Thirty minutes later took another. Then I left to go vote...almost forgot. After voting, I picked up my Aunt Ruthie and drove to Mama's house. We swapped to Mama's car, and I drove them to DeKalb. Their last remaining uncle, Reuben Houston Sanford, died. He was only two years older than Mama...he had a different mother from my grandfather, Grover Weldon "Punk" Sanford. I don't have a photo of Reuben Houston (yep, that's what my Little Papa called him), or I would post it.
Mama, Aunt Ruthie and I stopped at a restaurant known for their delicious hamburgers. Poor Mama and Aunt Ruthie. They both list to the right. I asked Aunt Ruthie if I should lean too. She said her posture embarrassed her so much. I straightened up and told her she shouldn't let it embarrass her...it was just life. I didn't enjoy my meal very much. Took another Zantac. We then went to the funeral home for visitation.
The longer the evening got, the more I thought, "If I could just throw up (sorry), I think I would feel better." I drove home keeping an eye on the shoulder of the road just in case...
Rolled Aunt Ruthie out at her house. Jumped out of Mama's car at her house and got into mine. Stayed just long enough to shine my headlights on her front door so that she could get inside. (That is very unusual for me. I generally help her get into the house. I know, I know. When she's by herself, she does it alone. But when I'm there...I do it.) So...I get home. Walk into the house and go straight to the bedroom. Hang up coat. Put purse away. Put on my pajamas and go to bed. It's barely after 8 p.m. I doze. When I wake up not quite an hour later, my belly feels like a helium balloon. Oh my! Once again I think about how much better I'd feel "if only." All of a sudden...run to the bathroom. I did it! Blech again. Double blech. But afterwards, I went to bed and slept just about all night. Not another repeat.
My tummy is tender today. Even though my jeans aren't too tight, I'm running around with them unbuttoned and the zipper barely up high enough to keep them from falling off. I've been afraid to eat much but crackers and drink a cup of tea. Sam went to Don Juan's for Mexican food. hahahaha I stayed home, ate a baked potato and drank some iced tea.
Feeling ill did not keep me out of my sewing room. After Roolen showed off her ruler organizer, I visited her blog, www.roolen.blogspot.com , for the directions. And this is what I made.
It's two-sided!
When I got through, I pulled out my Swiffer. I don't have any of their sheets, so put on an old makeup stained washcloth.
Worked perfectly! All I had to do when I finished was peel the washcloth off, shake it outside, toss it in the wash. I'm happy!
How about some Sunday afternoon peanut brittle?
Get out a good thick saucepan. I have one that belonged to my grandmother. Mama let me have it. It's about a 3 quart size. This will boil up a bit so don't use a small saucepan. Grease a cookie sheet, marble slab, granite countertop, etc. with butter.
3 cups sugar
1 cup light Karo syrup
1/2 cup water
3 cups raw peanuts
1 tablespoon butter
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
Bring the sugar, syrup and water to a boil stirring almost constantly, and boil until the temperature reaches 230 degrees F on your candy thermometer. Pour in raw peanuts. Stir constantly until temperature reaches 320-330 degrees and the color is a pretty amber. Remove from burner. Stir in butter, salt, and baking soda. Immediately pour onto your buttered surface.
IT IS HOT! And will remain hot for a while. When cool, break into smaller pieces.
Enjoy!
When Jonathan was a little boy, he was banned from the kitchen only when I was making candy. It entailed carrying a hot saucepan from the stove across the kitchen to a large counter top to do the pour. That hot sugar syrup was dangerous stuff.
I 'visited' Penny Quilts a few minutes ago. (Her blog is listed in my blog list down on the right.) While I was reading her post, I thought...she's married to the same man I'm married too! WOW
When Sam and I first married, my 13-year old came with me...and his 18/19 year old son eventually moved in with us for a while. I can still hear, "Who left the lights on?" Since there were four of us in the house, and I knew that I didn't leave the lights on, the brilliant deduction would've been 'one of the boys.' AHA!!! Now there are only two of us in the house. I never hear "Who left the lights on?" Because we both know who did...SAM!
Sam is a good cook. He made beef stew yesterday, and it was delicious (even if he did omit the bay leaf...he said he didn't miss it...I did...another story). I heard him stirring, then whacking the spoon on the slow cooker insert. It's ceramic. Ceramic chips/breaks/cracks/crazes. So, once again, "Sam, don't whack the spoon on the side of the bowl!" The reply was "Who's cooking?"
But...he is using MY tools!
He forgets the time I used the wrong drill bit to drill a drain hole in the bottom of a ceramic pot. When he told me what I'd done (I thought a drill bit was a drill bit was a drill bit)...from then on, whenever I used his tools, I'd ask if "this" one will do what I wanted it to do. I mean, I never used his screwdriver like a chisel or a punch and whacked the handle end with a hammer. (So this is my argument for next time.)
Meantime, my stainless stirring spoons are getting rough edges where they are whacked against cast iron...and my bowls (cooking AND serving) are in danger of being chipped. I do not use chipped, cracked, or crazed dishes, ceramics, glass. Yes, I can go buy replacements. But some of my things are rather nice. Some are collectibles. And I'd much rather buy more fabric or yarn than replace a chipped bowl. Let's keep this in perspective please.
But you should see my new floor! Sam did a wonderful job!!