Officially Moved In

Ladies and Gentlemen,
I am now an official resident of Greensboro, Alabama. I have a house and a bed and a mailing address. I have a school and a classroom and a principal.

I live in the quaintest place imaginable, and right now, I'm having a hard time believing I'll ever get sick of this place. Never. It's toooooo precious (pictures to come soon).

Love,
Virginia from Montana (currently living/teaching in Alabama)

Ricks and Tree Houses

My roommates and I have been looking into purchasing firewood, and have been calling to all the various Norman lumber yards for different quotes. After calling all over the place, getting lots of answering machines and a ridiculously expensive quote from one lady, we were called back by one of the businesses.

The man on the other line was immediately very helpful, answering all our questions. He told us approximately how large a quarter rick would be, how long it would last (6-8 fires of 4-5 logs), and how much it would cost ($35 for the wood, $5 for delivery) -- So helpful!

So Valerie called him back to let him know that we wanted to order wood from him.

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Val: Hi! I'd like to go ahead and order that quarter rick of wood.
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Guy: Oh.... okay... well, uh, I'm actually in a tree right now. So let me call you back when I get down. It'll be when it gets dark.
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Bahaha! Seems so fitting.

Loving Me Some Food Blogs

My newest obsession is cooking blogs. I can't get enough of 'em. I keep finding new ones, reading through them, falling in love and getting really hungry. I've taken to copying all the tasty (easier) recipes onto blank Word documents with the intent of printing them when I get to Norman.

It started out innocently enough. My first love was Pioneer Woman, though I loved her more for her wit and entertaining stories than for her cooking. But I did try a few of her recipes (one of which I have now cooked three times over the break for different people) and I love them.

After Pioneer Woman came The Menu Mama, who is actually an old friend of the family's. Heather has two little kids and focuses her blog on helping people plan for the week ahead, including a grocery list for the beginning of every week (which I think is brilliant). She's also great because her meals rely on ingredients that I could easily find in my own pantry -- no fancy-schmancy spices and impossible-to-pronounce cheeses.

These blogs I admired passively, browsing through and appreciating but not needing.

Then I went to Montana for part of Christmas break and took it upon myself to help my dad find some easy new recipes that he can make on Sundays (and in turn, find some good recipes for myself). And of course, where would you go for recipes except online?

So with that challenge in mind, I went through the links on Ree and Heather's blogs and found Bakerella, Smitten Kitchen, and a plethera of other awesome, delicious, super cool cooking (and baking) blogs.

With all these blogs to browse through, I don't think I'll ever purchase an actual cookbook now. What's the point? It's all online.

Kinda makes me feel bad for the poor publishing industry.

Until I google how to make the perfect brown rice and I immediately get a good fifty or sixty recipes.

From now on, I think I'll just grab my favorite recipes from all these great blogs and combine them in a binder or something. It's better that way anyway, because then it's personalized.

Cooking for One

In general, I have very little motivation to cook for just myself. Why go through all the effort if I'm the only one around to enjoy it? I mean, if it's seulement moi doing the eating, my specialties are tuna melts and turkey sandwiches. Nothing fancy.

(My expertise also barely extends at scrambled eggs and Kraft mac & cheese, though I do make a mean french toast breakfast. I hate to brag, but it's the truth.)

So, with that said, I must admit that I feel a bit like a phony right now. All this week, my dad and I have been discussing ways for him to meal plan, store leftovers, and try out new recipes -- and I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Uphill Both Ways in Freezing Weather

I flew into Billings yesterday, leaving balmy Las Vegas behind for the frigid winter wind of Montana -- of which Dad and I had ample time to appreciate, as we stood outside for a solid twenty minutes waiting for the taxi to arrive. Just goes to show how small my town is. We probably got one of only two taxis in service that day.

Side Note: Dad is sitting here and would like me to clarify that I was in Henderson, not Las Vegas. He says that Henderson is the second largest city in Nevada. However, since they bleed together and there is only a tiny sign to indicate the change from one city to the other, I will continue to call it Las Vegas. Sounds much more exotic that way.

The last two days have been filled with rearranging/cleaning/bleaching my dad's apartment, seeing friends, experiencing my small hometown's public transportation, and walking to the Dollar Tree to buy more utensils for my dad's kitchen.

It's actually quite fun to help buy stuff for someone else's kitchen (using someone else's money). I'll probably be over the moon when it's time to get stuff for my own kitchen (though I am much less enthusiastic about the spending my own money part). But seriously, setting up a house is so much fun. And the dollar store is actually the best thing that was ever created for said homemaking. For example, why would you go to a regular store (even Walmart, the cheapville of them all), when you can get that same vase/oil dispenser/wine glass/measuring cup set for a fraction of the cost at the dollar store? One buck for everything? Yes please.

Then, of course, came the adventure of walking home with my loot. See, Dad's not-so-trusty, ancient-beyond-belief station wagon finally bit the dust not long ago, and as such, I am without a car. Which means walking long distances to get places (ten blocks to the grocery store -- uphill both ways in snow and ice) or taking the bus.

Oh, the bus. See, in small-town Montana, not very many people take the bus. I have yet to be on a bus with more than four people at a time. The city is too spread out, and the public transportation too sparse, to make it very convenient to not have a car. So most people have cars. And no one rides the bus.

Except me.

Five quarters will take me anywhere I want to go -- as long as there's a bus station nearby, of course.

It's very interesting to see your hometown, the place where you've grown up and spent 13+ years, from the back of a bus. Just sitting there, bumping along. It's a different feeling, though it's hard to describe. And I kinda enjoy it. I don't particularly enjoy being limited in mobility or anything, but it's a new adventure to attack Billings by bus. It gives me a new challenge during my week or so here.

That and keeping my balance on all this ice. I shall consider it an immense accomplishment if I manage to stay on my feet and off my butt while walking around out here.

Surprise!

Today is my roommate Madison's birthday, so, in keeping with tradition, the rest of us roommates surprised her at midnight last night with cake. Well, with brownies. And it was a miracle that she was actually surprised.

It all started when Madison had a final last night from 7:30-9:30 p.m.

I have her car and am supposed to pick her up when she is done. Halfway through said final, however, I remember that I haven't gotten her the cake yet. But before I can go out and get one, Madison calls and said she is finished. Damn. No time left to buy cake.

My roommates and I decide we'll just bake her some homemade brownies, which I thought was a brilliant idea. Until I get halfway to campus and realize that Madison's killer sense of smell is never going to let us get away with that. But it's our only option.

When Madison and I get back home, she miraculously decides to take a shower. As soon as the door is closed, Brittany and I sprint to kitchen and stir up some brownie mix. It goes in the oven pronto, but there is still over thirty minutes of bake time left when I hear the shower water fizzle out.

Some Interesting Food Preparation Techniques

Since coming to college, I have discovered that there are a few things I learned growing up under the guidance of my mother that are not the ... er... typical way of doing things. Most of these discoveries have come from the area of food preparation and storage. 

For example, most people don't keep their peanut butter in the fridge. It's usually in a less petrified consistency, making it easier to spread, when it lives in the pantry. Also, expirations dates exist for a reason. They are not negotiable.

Today, I learned that most people think storing hotdogs in the freezer is weird. I guess hotdogs usually stay in the fridge? This was news to me. Mom always froze our hotdogs, and they would thaw as they boiled. Also -- you can microwave them. Crazy, right?!

However, today my roommate kindly pointed out to me that this freezing business was unnecessary. After all, "hot dogs are 20% meat and 80% preservatives." Too true.

A Beautiful Weekend

I am so grateful that I have the opportunity to live in a house with my four best friends this year. Nothing compares to living with people you love. It's comfortable and comforting.

In the mornings, we'll brew coffee for each other and call out, "Have a good day, dear!" as we leave, just like good fifties housewives. We cook for each other once a week-ish, so that we'll all have at least one real meal a week (with plenty of leftovers for later). On Friday afternoons we clean together, as our kitchen is always a disaster after a long week of piling the dishes high (since we're too busy to pick up after ourselves in the midst of classes), and on weekends we lounge around together, like a real family on Sunday mornings.

Yesterday morning was one of those mornings. Good for your soul. I woke up early (as did the rest of the house), and we lounged around all morning in the living room, each of us doing something pleasant, like reading or chatting (a.ka. anything unrelated to school). The weather has been glorious, so we opened both doors to the house and let the cross breeze cool the room, to the soundtrack of birds chirping in a nearby tree. 

My leisure activity was setting up my easel by one of the doors and painting for a few hours. I am trying this new art technique called impasto, where you spread paint on the canvas really thick with a palette knife, and I love it. Probably because it combines two of my favorite things -- creating pretty things and playing with textured goop. Seriously. Playing with paint (or flour or icing or whatever) is one of my favorite parts of painting (and baking and everything else). So. much. fun.

So far I'm pretty happy with the way the painting looks. It needs just one afternoon or morning more and it should be done. And then it's on to my next painting...

My plan is to paint tons and tons more paintings and fill the house with them. I want to paint a three-panel spread for my bathroom, a three-panel spread for over the living room couch, and a few more paintings to spice up my bedroom. After that, I'm taking requests.

And since I can work quickly with impasto, there's a chance that I'll at least finish both three-panel pictures by the end of this semester-- if I complete at least one painting every two weeks. I think I can do it, since Saturday mornings have already been designated as my painting days and so far I've done a pretty good job sticking with it. I'm excited to have a house full of paintings again-- just one more reason getting a house is one of the best decisions my friends and I have ever made.

Dryer Issues

For the last few weeks, our dryer has been terrible. It never dries our clothes completely on the first cycle, and sometimes we have to put our clothes in three or four times before they are dry. We couldn't figure it out and sorta chalked it up to cheap appliances, like the rest of the house (Lesson for future home purchasing: Thoroughly examine the little things, like weather-stripping and quality of appliances. Be not hypnotized by new carpet and granite countertops).

Last night, Valerie pulled out her still soggy jeans from their third drying cycle.

"What is wrong with this dryer?!" she exclaimed.

But then, like a flash of genius, it hit me-- what was the situation with the dryer lint? I was surprised none of us had thought of it before.

So I hopped up to check. And sure enough, out came the most honkin', epic piece of multi-colored dryer lint I have ever seen. Valerie and I could not stop laughing.

I've included a picture for your appreciation. The sticky note says: "Do not throw away until everyone has seen it," and there is an arrow pointing to it labeled, "epic dryer lint." I kept my hand in the picture for scale.

It's a wonder we didn't burn the house down.