I saw this on my neighbor’s desk. I asked her – well, you take a look first.
Which one was extreme – the chef or the salad?
Readers, what do you think?
Fine dining with a two-year old is fun. Trust me. Doubters? I’ll show you.
Audrey has her hair up in pink hairbands. Pink!
Audrey smiles for her favorite aunt – favorite for today, at least.
Spoons! Must count spoons.
Audrey took a picture all by herself (almost). Time to get this girl a smart phone.
I prefer to focus on this view.
Must count spoons again. Now there are four!
Alas, even a fine dining experience must come to an end. We went home to read books. Go, Dog, Go and Clifford’s Pals were on the literature list for the evening. Then finally, it was goodnight time for the one who is Two. Maybe she’ll rest up for more adventures – tomorrow.
Due to last minute planning, the rental truck was quite a bit bigger than we needed.
Did I say big? How big was it?
It filled the driveway. We barely had room for La Petite’s Saturn.
Did I say it filled the driveway? Look out for the trees!!
Did I say it Filled the Driveway?
Hold your breath and suck in your stomach while you squeeze past.
Did I mention the truck was Much Bigger Than We Needed? Here is the load. That’s all of it.
Big or small, truck or trailer, they headed out to the highway and got the move done.
Meanwhile, I stayed home and made pickles.
I do enjoy my summer and fall Saturdays. The Farmers’ Market downtown, my own garden yield, pulling it all together in the kitchen to feed my family nutritious and delicious and locally-grown foods… Saturdays are inspiring and motivating and very satisfying days.
Then come Sunday mornings. Last weekend I was preparing and canning dill pickles until just after ten at night. I cleaned up what had to be done immediately, and I left the rest for morning.
If you doubt me, let me assure you: my kitchen really is that small. Most of the time it’s a great kitchen for cooking and baking. Once in a while, like weekends in August and September, I find it feels a little bit cramped. I’m not sure the pictures really show how much of a chore I faced when I got up Sunday morning. My three goals for the day: clean the kitchen, clean the kitchen, and then watch the Milwaukee Brewers beat the Houston Astros (I’m a positive thinker that way).
Well, I did it. I not only cleaned the kitchen, washed the large pots and pans and mixing bowls, I also reused the water from the hot water bath canner, moved the canner to the deck to dry, put away all the now-clean dishes, labeled all the pickles jars, and more.
I took inspiration from the now-visible refrigerator magnet of the racing sausages, pushed the on button for the dishwasher, and relaxed in the den with Amigo to watch some baseball.
Final scores: Daisy 1, Kitchen 0. Brewers 7, Astros 3. All in all, a good weekend.
I left my labeler out on the table.
La Petite had too much time on her hands and decided to play with it.
In case there is any doubt, she made sure we knew what was for dessert after opening the gifts.
She didn’t label the coffee.
>source unknown: seen on Plurk
If you can’t read it well, it’s Grandma’s Saloon and Grill. Look up above; grandma’s portrait is flanked by two cows, mounted on the side of the outside wall.
Well, that’s that. Grandma clearly owns the place.
I must admit, the ice cream from Grandma’s Boxcar was delicious.