One of my current household endeavors is not to waste food. I grew up in a full house, and family stopped by often. Nothing was ever wasted.

As an adult, I learned to freeze leftovers in individual portions, and eventually, how to cut up cooked meats and vegetables, and put them in soups, casseroles, and eggs. I learned that from Jacques Pepin’s memoir. It had never occurred to me to chop up cooked chicken and make it into some other dish.
Now our household consists of two adults, a small child, and a toddler. So sometimes the girls eat an astonishing amount, and other times very little. I hadn’t frozen chowder before  this week. It is a requested recipe of DD6 and SS. So when he lived here, there wasn’t any chowder  to freeze.

Heating the chowder was somewhat labor intensive, since I had to keep taking it out of the microwave to stir it. And to make sure the milk didn’t curdle. But not nearly so much work as making a fresh pot.

Having leftover rice to use for fried rice has been so advantageous that I’ve gotten into the habit of making extra and putting it in the refrigerator.

I’m still having to occasionally throw out food. But I’m hoping that we will use everything we cook this week, and begin to see an economic advantage, less trash, and fewer dishes.

Ugh.

I decided to cover my grey hair.  This is fairly stupid, since my hair is very dark.  Miss Clairol and I do not agree on what dark brown looks like.  To me, my hair looks nearly black.  So I looked at the box and did my best to choose the same color (as my natural color) 4N.  Yeah, not so much.  My natural color has a lot of red.  But… being completely clueless about hair color, I read several articles all of which said use a neutral color to cover grey.  Well, it came out darker than my natural color and washed out in a week.

Really, permanant should last more than one week.

My new hair color. by lizzie1326

A month later, I tried again.  L’Oreal this time I think.  5N.  It did cover the grey, and absolutely every hint of red that was in my hair.  I look washed out and tired.  People are asking me if I feel okay – like when I wear black.  I am very fair with dark hair.  Wearing black is Elvira-ish in a very unflattering way.

Yeah, covering grey is not supposed to make me look older.

Will try one more time, with a reddish shade.  If this is unsuccessful, I will accept hair color defeat.

I checked out a half dozen books with hair and fashion advice.  Most of it should be obvious and therefore is not.  Such as that wearing clothing that is stretched out or doesn’t fit makes you look fat.  I read this and thought how silly that I haven’t noticed that my bras are all stretched out.  Duh, I haven’t purchased a new one since before I got pregnant!  I went shopping.

Shopping sucked.  The bras are flattering.  The baby hates them.  She cannot gain unauthorized access to the food source.  She’s quite ticked.

I went back to the same store a few days later.  The baby was done shopping.  I was not.  I got four tanks for layering.  I attempted shapewear – also a fashion magazine recommendation.  I could not get any of it over my head.  This prompted me to workout, which is far more pleasant than the thought of stuffing self like a sausage and being unable to remove garments to pee.

Sadly, I still need to shop.  I need a bathing suit that does not make me feel like troll.  Because I must make sure my kids know how to swim.  And pool avoidance has gone on long enough.

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DSC_3690 by busbeytheelder

Hmmm.

I have eaten the fried turkey before and liked it well enough. But, for some reason it seemed better this year. I do not know why. Maybe I just had it in my head that with all the rave fried turkey reviews, even I would like it better. Or maybe BIL has perfected his turkey frying technique.

Whatever, my turkey enjoyment was atypical.

Typical was my need to pester SIL with 50 zillion questions about yarn. Because I like fabric and fibers. And yarn is a fiber about which I know next to nothing. And there it always is, all furry and interesting on the shelf. And of course she knitted the cute legwarmers for DD so I associate her with yarn. And I keep thinking that I can eventually convince myself that I have the attention span to learn how to knit.

But whenever I get extremely interested in the allure of the yarn and the idea of the needles clacking in a soothing way, I suddenly image loosing my place on a pattern and ending up with some really crooked, unusable piece of cloth. And that is too much doom and anxiety to contemplate. Better to admire the yarn at SILs house.

Also, I find it a paradox that when wool lands on me it itches. And SIL has about a dozen different types of wools and never, ever looks itchy. She keeps explaining which ones are actually hair, and not fur. But since DH is still telling me which weird animal is a mule and which one is a donkey, and I still don’t know. I suspect that unless something cataclysmic happens, I will not get this animal covering worked into my brain. Though I think that I understand that alpaca is from a goat not a sheep.

Right. Aunt D mentioned that there was much violence at Thanksgiving because my niece jumped on me and grabbed my neck. She’s three. Aunt D can make anything sound inflammatory for fun. Really, if the worst act of violence is a very affectionate three year old. And the worst verbal assault concerns too many questions about yarn, I think we’re in pretty good shape.

Happy Thanksgiving All.

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• Knitting and Other Mishaps