It’s Saturday night, and I feel like a 50’s housewife.
Wait. If I were a 50’s housewife, I’d be sipping a gin and tonic and wearing a frilly apron. Chances are I’d also have a pair of patent leather pumps on while I clacked around the kitchen in my A-line skirt. Scratch that. I’m wearing a pair of beat-up yoga capris and a hoodie, and scuffing around the kitchen in my slippers. Diet Pepsi isn’t a very elegant drink, but it works for me.
I am rocking the domestic finesse today, and how. Right now, six yams are almost finished roasting in the oven; once they cool I’ll be turning them into my locally famous (if you talk to the right people) baked yums for our Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, and for my friend who gazed at me hopefully when I mentioned I would be making them for the family meal again. As soon as the yams are soft and ready to be reborn into someone delicious, the acorn squash destined for the stew pot will replace them; I’m making four batches of soup for my grandma between tonight and tomorrow.
The ham bone from last night’s meal with friends is simmering away on the stove, destined to become a split pea soup, and I’ll start a pot of tomato, veggie, and rice soup as soon as I finish this post. At some point, most likely tomorrow because my stove is only so big, I’ll start a batch of potato, bacon, and leek.
While everything boils and bakes, I’ll be scrubbing out my microwave and reorganizing my canned and dry goods cupboard. Things are a jumbled in there right now, and I’m not too sure what I need to add to my shopping list so I can stock everything up for the winter. Canadians are rather like squirrels: winter makes us want to fill our houses with food and wait out the cold.
Once my oven is done roasting veggies, I’ll move on to some apple cranberry crisps, which I’ve never tried before but figure are seasonal and pretty festive for Thanksgiving weekend.
I need to run. The washing machine just finished spinning, and if I don’t want to wear these sad stretchy pants to turkey dinner tomorrow, I need to go move my clothes into the dryer.
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Blue Speckled Pup 
I’m visiting from Cinderella’s… those cranapple crisps sound wonderful to me. I hope they turn out as delicious as they sound. Enjoy your Thanksgiving dinner. It sounds lovely.
Thanks for dropping in and taking the time to say hello. I also have high hopes for the crisps, even if they’re not really for me.
It’s sounds so cozy and sweet-smelling at your house. Much better than our house of microwaved dinners and Febrezed furniture.
Partly true, but my dear, you forget that I live with The Sherminator, otherwise known as the ultimate stink machine. I mostly cook to cover up eau de dog annoos.
Maybe I should try that technique!