I don't have shades on my window yet, but I do sometimes have painters just outside my windows at 7am. That's pretty jarring.
I did quite a bit of cooking over the weekend. Bread pudding, baked cod, Tarte Tatin, madeleines, etc. Basically, I used a whole lot of butter and was lulled into a trance by our gorgeous oven's gentle hum. The best thing was charring chiles (directly on the flame) for Friday's beef stew.
Here's a picture of the Tarte Tatin (recipe from Mastering the Art of French Cooking... thanks Seth!!) I made for dessert tonight:
It was pretty tasty. I was a little discouraged by the difficulty in rolling out the shortcrust pastry, but recovered with a successful unmolding. The integrity of the apple slice spirals held up, and while I think I can master it after a few more attempts, I was pleased by this first effort.
Switching gears (to the gross, as opposed to the tasty), I am adjusting to the bug aspect of country life. It's the time of year when black flies come inside, and we have a plethora of them as we're on a farm. Hayley and I have a running kill competition going. So far she's got 32 to my 24, but I'm going to catch up while she's at school (Sshhh don't tell!). As far as I can tell, every fly you kill morphs into two flies.
Also, while going through the back hall to the laundry room, I encountered this jaunty fellow (or lady):
I don't think I've ever seen a praying mantis in person before. Cree-py. I mean, not cockroach creepy, but there's something very odd about the way they move when you try to unsettle them. I tried to get him onto a ruler, the better to transport him outside, but he wasn't having it. Then, when I returned to the laundry room this morning, he was perched on a towel, which I then carried outside.
He was quite attached to the towel:
It was only after I started taking pictures that he started to mosey off into the bushes behind the barn.
The final bug-related thing I have to share is this spider:
Unfortunately, I don't think this photo really does justice to the bizarre shape and configuration of this particular arachnid. We don't know what kind of spider it is, but about 10 of them (they are enormous... just keep that in mind) rule the entrance to our cellar.
That's right. Cellar. No harmless cement basement in this old house. The floor is mostly dirt, there are canning accoutrements stored there, and it is as good for causing arachniphobic nightmares as it is for storing wine.
My mother and sister got a couple of these big guys with the vacuum, but like the flies, two jumped in to take the place of each of their deceased comrades.
The bad news is, the cellar door is a few short steps from my room. I can hear them pounding on the door in the middle of the night. I'm afraid they are well beyond toilet paper, or even spider grabbers. I fear the Tennis Racquet of Death would meet its match. This is definitely the sort of spider that would kill you, fuck your wife, and burn your house down before moving on to conquer Russia in the dead of winter. And it (along with its spider army) is a few short steps from my bedroom.
In other non-gross news, I went driving with Hayley (in my mom's delightful convertible) today. For two whole hours, we cruised the back roads and bustling urban centers of our region. And, by some miracle, I did not fall asleep. She did very well. Pulled off an excellent right turn on red (hoooray New Hampshire!) and didn't lose her cool if I ever fell behind on my coaching and instructing.
I'll leave you with this thought: It is fucking beautiful up here right now. Perfect, perfect weather. The smell of freshly cut hay is in the breeze, there are wild turkeys strutting the pasture. Even Gus is enjoying his new environs (Though I imagine he could do without Mick following him around or Carson barking at him to play).
5 comments:
I can't wait to see you again-other than in the pictures I keep in a scrap book no one knows about.
I tried baking a cake the other day, but since you weren't here to supervise, when I removed it from the oven, it was a bag of M & Ms.
Still they were pretty good.
marge says praying mantissseses (mantii?) have spikies that they stick into their victims and paralyze them.
i think they look pretty.
also, i think you could get the spiders with the tennis racket of death if you pumped up the voltage.
talk to patrick about it.
If you want, I could loan you about 200 small girls who, without prompting, will stand only inches from these spiders and scream at such a frequency as will kill them (and, well, possibly you) in a matter of moments. I learned about this neat trick when they performed it on a dinky city spider this morning. This poor spider only had designs of looking longingly at your wife. He actually admires your house, thinks you're a nice fellow, and doesn't know where Russia is.
I think you should write a children's book about the adventures Gus and the praying mantis could have together.
Patrick is very well known for his skills with the nailgun. He killed a fly with a finishing nail at a distance. I may have to tap him to spear some spiders. I think he's up for it.
I'm concerned that Gus will try to eat a praying mantis. He's been prowling my room and decimating the bug population therein for the past few days (encouraging, considering my designs to make him a mouser).
Josh, that bag of M&Ms sounds like a lovely cake indeed.
that is one hell of a bug. i have never seen a mantis in nh. did she look full?? cause we all know what that means.
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