Don't call me Martha!
I hate not running at 100%. Being sick, recovering, having to take it easy - all that chafes! So this week I was planning on stepping up and powering through the crappy physical recovery related pain/frustration and actually get some things done.
My mom and I made plans to make some egg rolls on Wednesday. This is our third year of doing it. We usually make a huge batch and then freeze them, so that they're ready to pull out on those nights we haven't planned any supper and need something fast. We've developed our own little science and it's almost down to an art form. Individually, we chop and cook the cabbage/bok choy etc the night before then the day of we just mix, season, roll and deep fry. This is Mac and I getting the stuff ready. (that cabbage leaf did NOT go into the egg rolls btw.)
I have a huge garage so we do all the deep frying outside so that my house doesn't stink for a week. We got it all done in a morning. I was pretty proud of myself, to say the least.
I also bought two plastic bags full of yellow beans from a farm stand and canned them using my mother in law's recipe. My hubby LOVES yellow beans like this.
So I told Harry that if I wasn't feeling too horrible Saturday morning I would take Mac and go to the farmer's market. That way we would be out of the house and he would be able to sleep in a noise free environment. Over the course of the night, Mac developed a cold. I went down at 10:30 to give him Advil, which he choked on causing him to promptly puke all of it up all over his giraffe. We had to explain to him that giraffe had to take a bath (in the washing machine) so he'd have to sleep without him for the rest of the night. I rocked him for a little but then put him back in bed. At 4:30 AM he woke up coughing. And coughing. And coughing. I went down and rubbed vapor rub on his back then set up his cool mist humidifier. It took me ten minutes and a mini flood but I got it done. The good news was that he slept in till 7:30 this morning because he'd been up so much at night.
So I got him dressed, washed the boogers off his face, packed him up and headed out to the farmers market. It was a beautiful foggy morning.
Since the last batch of beans turned out good I bought two more bags. I also bought a rhubarb strawberry pie for Harry (I HATE RHUBARB therefore I don't cook with it) and a little pumpkin for Mac. We then went to M&M's and stocked up on freezer stuff. Upon re-entering the vehicle we saw that Hemi had tried to help himself to the pie. The bag was ripped and a corner of the pie was eaten. It's OK though, because Harry still gets half. While we were in the McDonald's drive through getting Harry some breakfast we noticed the license plate on the car in front of us. This says "slipper" in french. Weird.
We got home and Harry bundled up Mac and took him for a bike ride since Mac's "help" makes things take a little longer to do. I was just finishing stuffing the last jar when they got home.
I quickly loaded them in the boiling pot and set the timer.
About ten minutes later I could hear some weird clanking so I lifted the lid to check on it and this is what I saw.
Yeah. Great huh?? Martha Stewart I am not! Thankfully only one jar broke.
So I fished it out, took everything else out, rinsed the black pot, refilled it with water and the remaining jars and it's happily (fingers crossed) bubbling away on the stove as I type.
Oh, and PS - Fire roasted steak soup from M&M's is AWESOME!