I have been knitting. I made a Brambling for April.
I started a Raven for Aidan, and it is adorable already.
I finished my swatches for Knitter's Review Retreat class, and then arrived in Williamstown just before dinnertime without them.
I started a sweater out of Lorna's Laces Swirl DK (currently at Webs as a close out, get it while you can, it's really perfect for what it ended up becoming!) - this was not close to what I intended to do with this yarn.
I made two monkeys, we little funky ones although a bit sullen from a lack of face, from the leftovers from two pair of socks.
I made a pair of Distraction Mittens out of the leftovers from the KRR swatches.
I started a pair of socks in Valley Yarns Franklin on Clover needles - more about this later.
Every year Mr. Wonderful's employer gives out turkeys on the Thursday before Thanksgiving. We had no room in the freezer so he popped it into the fridge. I came home from Knitter's Review Retreat to find a thawed bird waiting for me. It was a commercial bird and had one of those pop-up "thermometer" things. I never use them, but for some reason this time I did this time. I put him (or her) into my big roaster, stuffed the thing with aromatics (onion, leek, carrot, parsley), wrapped tinfoil tightly over the top, and walked away from the slow (300 degree) oven. This is not how I generally cook a turkey. I most often brine them for 24 hours and pay attention to the cooking process, handy probe thermometer at the ready, everyone aware that dinner will be "when it's done" and a clock will not be watched. I had no attachment to this bird, however, so low and slow worked for me. I assumed that the little poppy thing would let me know when it was done. The smell of roasting turkey filled the house, and all was well. For a very long time. Hours and hours. More hours than seemed right, really. It looked very done to me, and yet the poppy thing did not pop. I was being horribly negligent. I got sick of checking. I walked away. At about 6pm I opened the oven and discovered that not only had the poppy thing finally popped, but the bird was so done as to be falling apart before my eyes. Every single joint disintegrated when I poked at it with a table fork. And it was swimming in what appeared to be a half gallon or so of liquid. This, I think, is the disclaimer on the package that says "some water added"? Regardless, he tasted pretty good. For days. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Two people+one good-sized turkey=piles of leftovers. I made stock to freeze. I bagged meat for the freezer. And still it lingered, the plastic storage box stuffed with sliced turkey. It felt endless, that pile of meat. At long last we managed to empty the thing, with the last 1/2 cup of shreds going to Boo (old and blind has it's privileges). And then we went to my mother in law's for dinner Thursday and had...more turkey. Yesterday I went to the freezer and grabbed the first thing that came to hand - anything but turkey - I pulled out a whole chicken. And sighed. More poultry? But then I did this:
MMO's Slow Cooker Tired of Turkey Thai Chicken
3 qt crock pot
7-8 hours on low (reduce cooking time to 4-5 hours if using a thawed bird)
Into the pot place:
Small whole roasting chicken (I used one of my own, about 3 lbs he was, and still frozen when he went in)
1 leek, white and some green, chopped
3/4 cup of chopped carrots, unpeeled (if organic). Don't waste the micro nutrients! if they're conventional, peel them. Who knows what's on them.
In a medium sized mixing bowl combine the following:
1/2 cup Peanut Butter & Co. The Heat is On peanut butter
1/4 cup soy sauce
2T ketchup
2T Sriracha sauce (optional. The fam felt that this could have been left out, but then they are wimps. I like it hot.)
2T red current jelly
2 tsp Thai fish sauce
Mix well. Add 1 1/2 cup of water and stir until blended. Pour over chicken and vegetables in the crock pot. Cover and cook on low until the meat falls from the bone. Serve over brown rice. Yum.
If you try it, let me know how it worked for you. Curious am I about these things - will they work for other people? Ketchup and current jelly? What was I thinking? Or WAS I thinking? Most recipes I make are out of my head. Sometimes they get repeated, sometimes I forget to write them down, sometimes I don't measure a thing and have no clue. A lot like my knitting, really...
Knitter: "Oh...that's cute! Where can I get the pattern?"
Me: "Uhhh. Ummmm. Uh. Mmm. Uh...."
The barn grows, sometimes exponentially, at other times so slowly I want to kick and scream.
I mean really. How could you resist this?
Now the promise, I put it down here in the hopes that no one will see it so if I fail it'll be all good...I am going to try to blog about Knitter's Review Retreat and a few other FO's and such, and I will if anyone's interested, size and write up the mittens and share them (for a nominal fee, maybe $3?). I promise. Honest. Really, I do.
*I adored my 'Too and was heartbroken when she died. She was charming, companionable, adorable, gregarious and at times downright cuddly - and we have the pictures to prove it. She was free-flying in our house, so wandered from room to room with us, ate meals with us and was always a part of our flock. I don't, as a rule, approve of parrots as pets. I think they belong in the wild whenever possible. This bird was a rescue. She'd been wild-caught, probably illegally imported, then failed to breed when mated by her human captors to another Goffin's 'Too. As neither of the "pair" was ever DNA sexed, it's possible that they were same-gender and incapable of producing anything but clear eggs. Her "failure" to produce meant that the people who imported her had no further use for her and she was pawned off on the first available home and ultimately she ended up with me. I had her twice. First, prior to my divorce when her "mate" and she still shared a cage and before I'd read about parrots and behavior - she eventually killed her "mate", a total fail on my part, two cages would have saved "him" - and the second time after I had gotten back on my feet and she was able to return to me. At that point I did a lot of research. She had a giant Macaw-sized cage (which I still have), tons of stimulus, a play gym made from pvc pipe that rolled from room to room, lots of attention and love and an educated handler. I swear she remembered me. There was crying on my end and snuggling on hers, with her head in my neck and her wings spread out across me in some kind of hug. I miss her and the birds in my yard soften that a little. And yes she screamed in the middle of the night, and after some reading of Goffin's specific literature I found out that some can have night terrors. She was more or less quiet during the day; a little loud if she felt ignored, or playfully vocal in the early morning or evening which is normal for birds, or if we were dancing. If you've never danced with a cockatoo, I highly recommend it. But sometimes in the dead of night and for no apparent reason she would scream like a house afire, covered or uncovered, loved or not. Just something anyone considering parrot-as-pet should be aware of, along with "needs LOTS of stimulation, LOTS of destructable toys, a safe space for sleeping, and LOTS of good food, supplements, water, attention, affection, love, and time". And if you leave out ANYTHING on that list I guarantee you'll get more screaming, biting, feather-plucking and misery than you thought possible from a silly old bird, and it will be entirely of your own doing and you will have no one to blame but yourself.