A friend from college -- he was from Michigan -- once told me I was a yahoo: someone who waited until it was almost too late to start working. So here's typical me: I stayed up until 2AM last night, for no good reason -- got sucked into the tail end of National Treasure (audio at link) while doing my exercises, and then was too wound up to go to bed, so ended up blogging and bouncing around the 'net for way too long.
Today, of course, I had to get up at 6:30 for physical therapy at 7AM. Yikes! So all of today I've been running on about 4 hours sleep, since you know going to bed at 2AM really means getting ready for bed starting at 2, and there's just a lot of ... stuff that needs to be done, like tomorrow's meds, the 4-step teeth cleaning/retainer process, the cleaning of the face, the moisturizer, the foot lotion (I'm trying to save my heels, for some reason over the past two weeks they've been splitting, ouch). It's ridiculous, but necessary, this process of going to bed. More than anything else, it makes me feel old, because the young can just fall into bed and sleep in their clothes and wake clear-eyed and ready to face another day. At least that's how I seem to remember it, but it's not true for me anymore!
So. P/T went fine (I can do a lot of that stuff with my eyes closed, which is restful, even though I'm working my neck/arms/shoulder muscles.) Then home, breakfasted the kids and myself. A little cruise around the blogosphere, checked the movie times, then hauled my butt upstairs to inventory all the kids' clothes to be donated, the spoils of last weekend's wardrobe review with all three. There were also a few things of mine, like last year's jeans that I will never, ever wear again: 120 lbs just does not look good on me. I can't believe I ever could wear those things. I distinctly recall at one point they were really loose, too. I must've been skeletal. Net: 3 huge garbage bags full of clothes and some toys I culled from the kids' rooms weeks ago; they've never missed any of them, so out they go!
Time to go, I need to go to the supermarket for molasses. (How could I have forgotten the molasses during all yesterday's errands? I have no idea.) Dilemma: DS2's sneakers are nowhere to be found, and I mean nowhere. I make the kids all get out of the van and come back in to look for them, both upstairs and down, but they are still MIA. DS2 wears his sandals over his socks. He looks like an adorable little geek.
Drop off the stuff at Savers, then head over to the supermarket where I buy the molasses and a new, blue Pyrex pie plate. I needed a 10-inch one, but this will have to do: 9.5 inches. What is up with that? I have never seen a recipe that called for a 9.5-inch pie plate. Ultimately, it worked out OK, holding much more of the pumpkin pie filling than last year's -- I only had one leftover custard cup, as opposed to last year's 3. So OK. (I got the blue one because it was on sale. I really don't care what color it is, but the blue is pretty on its own, even if it looks a bit weird under a pumpkin pie. However, since I have no plans to display the pie or even serve it to guests, who cares?)
Home: lunch time, by now, unbelievably. Fix the kids 3 different lunches (hot dog, tuna sandwich, mac&cheese), eat a quick lunch myself (the rest of the tuna), then jump in the shower.
Time for the movie! DS1 is moving strangely slowly. He has read the book, so I can sort of understand his reluctance: he has always been freaked out by Lord Voldemort. I convince him to go anyway. The movie ROCKED. DS1's assessment: They kind of screwed it up, but I liked it anyway.
Home, 4:15-ish. I should be baking, but I'm not, I'm doing I-don't-know-what, decide to check the mail, notice my neighbor is out putting up her Christmas decorations already; decide to visit with her for a while and see her recently remodeled kitchen: gorgeous, but not my taste. I don't like black countertops, even if they are granite. They do look super luxe, though -- just not my thing.
Now it's 5PM and I finally get moving: crusts for the pumpkin pie and the cranberry tart are done first, with cranberry sauce and cranberry jam going more or less concurrently. When the 2nd crust comes out of the oven, in goes the fish for dinner, which is not a leisurely affair for me, as I'm prepping the pumpkin custard to get ready to go in as soon as the fish comes out. I manage that, somehow.
After dinner, cleanup of all previous messes, including the dishes; DH has gone to fetch a mystery FedEx package (turns out to be something completely inconsequential; we were expecting something from the IRS [cue scary music].) Strain the cranberry jam; assemble the cheesecake filling.
Damn: my new pie plates are not as deep as my old pie plates. Either that or I've gone and made the crust too thick for the tart, which, come to think of it, is more likely. This crust is basically pecans, and butter, so it's not like a rolled-out crust. The cheesecake layer would overflow the pie plate if I poured the whole thing in, so I don't. Another ramekin of cheesecake. DH will like that, he can have it any time now (hee!).
While the cheesecake bakes: prepare the apples, Cameos again this year. They are smallish and not as firm as I would like. I give them a good shot of lemon juice to brighten them up, and grate a huge amount of fresh nutmeg in as well. Clean up again, as counter-space is limited, and I like to roll out the pie dough on my silpat.
I make the pie crust. I am a complete failure as a baking parent because all 3 of the kids come over to ask me what I'm doing. I'm standing there with a rolling pin, a bowl full of apple slices, and an empty pie plate, just waiting to be filled, and they ask me what I'm making! Yikes. Obvious solution: make pie more often! Sounds good to me.
I'm using the organic shortening again this year and again this year I forget to just screw the recipe guidelines and use as much water as I think I need. The dough is slightly dry and tears along the edges, but I know it will taste wonderful, flaky and light because I've scarcely had to work it at all. Bottom crust done, in go the apples, on goes the butter (I can't tell you how many times I've forgotten the butter!), on goes the top crust, and into the oven it goes.
It's in there now, I've just reduced the heat and I'm keeping an eye on it so the apples don't cook down to a mush. I've done that many times in the past. Tastes great, looks great from the outside, but when you cut it, there's the huge dome of crust with a big hollow underneath: weird. Overcooked apples, that is. It's embarrassing how long it took me to figure that out -- I guess I never really cared because it still tasted very good.
Photos at this point are doubtful, because nothing is looking especially pretty. The pumpkin pie cracked (I need to revisit those baking instructions; it seems to me the heat is too high initially). The cranberry tart is awaiting final assembly; I'm hoping as the cheesecake filling cools it will contract enough to let me put the top layer of cranberry jam on. It looks so pretty and tastes good! I could always serve it on the side, but that's rather a pain and doesn't look nearly as neat. So I have my fingers crossed.
Just checked the apples, still too firm. The pie looks marvelous though, so maybe I'll post some photos after all.
DH is snacking on the mini-cheesecake with a little cranberry jam. He declares: Good!
That's enough for tonight.
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