by Susan Lobb Porter | Life |
Aside from a bit of rain earlier in the month we’ve been blissfully coasting through autumn around here. Sunny skies. Comfy temps. Everyone saying aren’t we lucky. But today fall became AUTUMN. Like someone flicked the switch.
Woke up this morning and it was DARK. Like, when did that happen? All I wanted to do was snuggle down deeper under the comforter and grab a few more ZZZZZZZZs until the sun came up and it became a proper morning.
But I have a job. So I had to get up. Go to work. Be indoors all day and not realize weather was happening until I got home.
Sure were a lot of leaves on the ground. Like walking through a box of cornflakes. No sneaking up on anyone tonight. Especially since I like to crunch them. Like to kick ’em around and make lots of noise. Because it’s fun. And I can.
The horses’ water looked like pine needle soup.
And Thursday could be snow, depending on who you listen to.
Love this time of year!
by Susan Lobb Porter | Food, Parents |
It’s Halloween, Mama’s first on the other side. So I baked some cookies tonight. Loaded them with her favorite stuff. I’ll sit down in the oak grove where we buried her ashes and share a couple with her. Probably should bring a beer for my Dad. He’s an old hand at this Halloween stuff. Been a ghostie now for a dozen years but it’s his first one in the ground with Mama. He spent all the others in a box on the cherry hutch. I’m sure he’s much happier now.
As far as cooking goes, I cook like I paint. It’s the mixed media approach. A little of this. Some of that. Never the same way twice which drives my family crazy but suits me just fine. Really. They can make their own cookies.
Edith’s Ghostly Cookies
Here’s what you’ll need. All that nice healthy stuff. Tell yourself that. It helps with the guilt. Oh, and one thing’s missing from the photo–vanilla. Remembered it in time for the batter.
The Rules:
- There must be REAL butter. If you don’t have real butter then go get some. Or steal your kid’s Halloween candy and forget the cookies. Really. Just forget them.
- Use at least 1/3 LESS sugar than normal. Half if you’re brave.
- Stop frequently and taste the batter. That’s the best part.
Ready? Okay.
Ingredients
- 1 cup butter softened
- 1/2 cup or less white sugar
- 1 cup or less brown sugar
- 2 eggs…or 1 if that’s all you’ve got
- 2 teaspoons vanilla
- scant cup white flour
- scant cup whole wheat flour
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 1/2 cup whole grain cereal (tonight’s cookies=oatmeal)
- chocolate chips to taste
- dried cranberries
- walnuts by the handful
Beat butter and sugar. Taste. Add eggs and vanilla. Taste. Add flour, baking soda, salt. Jump back when beater sends cloud of dry stuff flying at you. Mix it all together. Taste. Add oats. Taste. Sneak into bedroom with bowl. Lock the door. Eat the batter. Forget the cookies.
Or…. add the rest of the stuff. Chocolate chips. Cranberries. Walnuts. Lots of walnuts if Mr. Spouse isn’t home. At this point you may still forgo baking and just eat the batter. Or you can drop by the spoonful onto cookie sheets and bake at 375 degrees until golden brown. Anywhere from 12 minutes to 2 hours, depending on your oven. Mine took 16 minutes.
Oh yum. Yum. Yum again–I can’t stand it!!! Now sit down with a cup of tea and a couple of these luscious little nubbins. Have a nice conversation with your favorite dead person. Wish them Happy Halloween.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life |
I made a couple of enchilada casseroles tonight, enough so I don’t have to cook for a couple of days. Just toss together a salad and we’re good. I popped them in the oven and went down (because it’s downhill) to give the horses their ‘bucket’.
The bucket being their nightly dessert of beet pulp, senior chow and supplements. Mmmm…yum.
Well, it is to them.
I wish I’d brought my camera. It was dark, the only light came from the hay shed. And it did wonderful things. Outlined the ponies’ backs. Cast long shadows. Long, like fifty feet. Or maybe only thirty. Really, I’m just guessing.
Leaves were dropping in the woods. At first I thought it was pinecones because they were so loud. But there were too many of them. One right after the other. And then one crispy leaf landed almost at my feet. Amazing how much noise such a fragile little thing can make.
Lots of sounds. Horses munching. A dog barking somewhere down the canyon. Those leaves. Peepers in the meadow.
I leaned against my boy, belly to belly while he ate. We’ve been together 16 years now. Old friends. Comfortable. It was chilly and his warmth felt good. From the corner of my eye I could see a bat swooping after whatever bats swoop after, disappearing in and out of the light. It always surprises me how fast they move. And how erratic. I’ve learned not to flinch but just ignore them.
Thirty minutes of quiet down-time. Thirty minutes to breathe deep (ah, smell the ponies!) and unwind. Thirty minutes to just be. Like a meditation.
It’d been a good day in the studio. A couple of paintings. A bunch of prep work for more paintings. And now I was done with art for the day. Really. D.O.N.E. Pony time was a nice transition. And after that…dinner. And family.
Even if they were watching football.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Beloved Beasties, Life |
Daughter Dearest and I were watching the news this evening. There was yet another story about obesity. One of those things where they show video clips of anonymous rear ends and bellies, all on the far side o’plump.
Daughter Dearest (a svelt size 2 if even that) turned to me and wondered what it would be like to flip on the news and see your butt featured in a story about fat people.
I put down my bowl of tortilla chips and pondered the question. Really, WHAT would I do if my tushie was broadcast on network TV as a bad example? And then I realized…I wouldn’t even KNOW! Seriously, I could be watching a story like that, eating my chips and shaking my head about the deplorable state of the nation’s health and NOT KNOW that the particularly jiggly bum I was watching was my own.
Because, aside from an occasional brief glimpse in a three way dressing room mirror, (and who believes them anyway?) I DON’T KNOW what I look like from behind. My eyes face front.
But I do have a fat ass. A hairy one at that. Don’t believe me? Check out the photo.
Her name is Jasmine June. She may be an ass…but she’s also a princess.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Beloved Beasties, Dogs |
Busy day. Productive day in Studio Grande. Six works-in-progress. YAY!!!
Comfy chair time. Nachos. TeeVee. Settled back to write my post. Post pics of the W-I-P. Then Sophie got involved.
She wasn’t impressed. Told me she could do better. Said she was way cuter than pictures of half assed finished art work. Which she is.
But she’s not a writer. She’s a napper, just like Ingrid. (Read about Ingrid here).
When she woke up she decided to eat her words.
Then she went back to sleep.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Life |
Daughter dearest–do NOT read this post today. Go away now, read a book. Clean your room. Watch TV. Whatever.
The rest of you gather ’round. I’ve got something to show you. Check this sucker out.
Wheeeeew… that’s one BIG honkin’ spider! Found him on my front porch this evening. Told him it was too early for Trick or Treat. And I ate all the candy anyway. He said he’d take cash. Told him I had no cash. He said he’d take plastic.
So I gave it to him.
