I'm still reeling from the shock. What an amazing thing! Something I had begun to wonder whether it would ever, ever happen.
Yesterday, I decided to make the supreme effort for my lovely family, especially Dan. I decided to make lasagna. This is the food of love, the dish I always made for Dan when we were dating. I used the time-tested recipe from my red plaid 1960's Better Homes & Gardens cookbook. I tweak it a bit, since I like mushrooms (fresh only), ricotta better than cottage cheese, and I don't like Italian sausage because it makes it way too rich, so I use ground beef instead.
It took me 2 hours to construct this meal; it takes 45 minutes to simmer the sauce, (15 minutes to get it ready to simmer), then 15 minutes to construct the lasagna, 30 minutes to bake, then it has to stand for at least 10 minutes to set the filling. We had a salad (bagged) and garlic bread made from leftover buns.
The lasagna was delicious, the best I have ever made. Of course, my children didn't like it, am I surprised? Nope. The pickiest kids on the planet are in my house and they were born that way. I always envisioned children like Laurie Colwin's (the late novelist and food writer) daughter who loved everything the minute she tasted it, including steamed zucchini. My kids? You couldn't get them to look at steamed zucchini, much less put it in their mouths. It's a puzzling thing to see in children whose father likes casseroles (unlikely in most men), home-made soup, and almost everything I make ('cause I have spent 22 years figuring out what he doesn't like) and then there's me, who will try almost anything once and likes a large variety of foods.
The prince of picky, however, is the Squatter. The squat's main meal is, of course, chicken nuggets, though he will accept chicken tenders, chicken strips, or chicken patties. As long as it has breading and NO BONES, he's there with his big bottle of ketchup, the perfect vegetable. He will also consent to eat skinless boneless breast meat, as long as the ketchup is on the table. He'll also eat ham, steak, pizza, hamburgers and hot dogs. We've been trying to expand his horizons and have made him try new foods recently, limiting his chicken nugget consumption. It's been an uphill battle, but we've seen some modest successes (he'll now eat baked potato, for instance.) We give him a dab of everything and most of the time he'll only eat the one thing he likes (assuming there is one thing he likes.)
Yesterday, when I asked mr. squat's whether he wanted some salad, he said yes. Now, this did not excite me much, since he has taken salad before and just let it sit. Laurel put some salad in his bowl and I actually told her she put too much in. So I was fully expecting to see most, if not all of the salad go down the garbage disposal. But this time....wait for it....the squat ATE it. He ate ALL of it. Without dressing (or even ketchup!!!!!)
Of course, he didn't touch the lasagna except for a tiny bite. But salad!!! Half a bowl of it! I'm still in a happy dream this morning...
A good name for it, actually, since it has WIPped me! I finally found out just why I left those two rows out at the end of the first row of blocks: I knit across one lavender heart block, across the middle plain peach block then turned and knit back at that point. So one heart block in that row has the correct number of rows, and one block is short 2 rows, making the whole thing lopsided. I will say, though, it doesn't show. Of course, when I went to do the second row with those heart blocks in it, I copied the shorted block instead of the correct one.
Of course, if
I'm on the home stretch on the front, so only the sleeves left now. Hallelujah!
This, however, is making me nervous. It's what's left of the pink skein. There is still a partial block to be knit in this color right below the neck. I'm worried. What if there isn't enough? What am I going to do????
My dingy friends
See these? These are the only socks I have ever finished for MYSELF. I've knit baby socks, I've participated in a sock exchange, but while I've started many socks, these in Mountain Colors Weaver's yarn are the only ones I managed to finish. They have a habit, unfortunately, of crawling into the laundry basket and leaping into the dark load unbeknownst to me, resulting in the fact that these are no longer socks, but have turned into fairly ugly felted slippers that actually stand on their own. They are just a hair on the small side when I first put them on, but they stretch to fit my feet after about an hour in my Birkies. These are the only socks I like to wear when it gets really cold in my house. I put them on and warmth races up my legs. These socks are friends.
I read on the Yarn Harlot's site that the Harlot washes her socks by wearing them into the shower. What a great idea! I am so totally resistant to hand-washing ANYTHING, that I have leapt upon this idea with great enthusiasm. There is one problem, though. I have nothing to wear while waiting for these to dry. Guess I'm going to have to get a move on and finish some of those socks!