Dear person who sits next to me on the plane tomorrow,
It was my husband’s idea to get Mexican food for dinner tonight, not mine.
Sincerely,
Courtney
Not my fault
Benefits of tool-lovers
Being married is great.
A good friend and newlywed was just telling me about how her new husband fixed the sink for her.
And, using a hammer and set of wrenches, my quasi-new husband just dislodged the food-processor part that I managed to get wedged into our garbage disposal.
It’s handy to have someone around who’s comfortable wielding tools.
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Differing opinions
I have two wonderful and close friends who have varying levels of faith in me.
Leah–professional farmer, certified food police, and out-of-this-world caterer–doesn’t trust me to bring anything but water, albeit fizzy water, when I come to her house for dinner.
Andrea on the other hand, trusts me to bake her a couple of wedding cakes.
Hmmm …
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Still not a professional baker …
Just realized why last week’s bundt cake test-run turned out a bit on the burned side.
Turns out I was supposed to set the oven to 350 degrees, not 450 degrees.
I think I’m finally starting to learn the importance of a thorough recipe read-through before baking.
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Another kitchen oops
Turns out cookies taste a bit er, different, when you halve the butter, sugar, and flour in your recipe but not the salt, eggs, and baking powder.
Oops.
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Mystery solved
My husband was perplexed the other day when he found mouse droppings in our house.
I was far less perplexed after noticing a significant collection of Cheese Nip crumbs scattered under the kitchen table.