preachin' to the choir

I'm not sure how certain recipes are named. Fool? Devils on horseback? Whoopie pies? Dutch baby? Spotted dick? No clue. Another on that list is preacher cookies. I was first introduced to them at my childhood church's monthly fellowship meal, so I like to think that some little old lady made these for her preacher all the time and so they were named thusly.

how our garden grows

Longtime readers might remember my first attempt at container gardening. The results were mixed.

blue box blues

Fact: There is absolutely, positively no comparison between the macaroni and cheese from that familiar blue box and a batch made completely from scratch (#scratchbatch*). They're not even similar!

*Are people still doing the hashtag thing? I'm always a few steps behind.

mound o' meat

If I think about it too much, meatloaf seems kind of disgusting. Before it's magically transformed through the power of heat into a browned, aromatic dinner delight, it is, essentially, a brick of raw cow products (or pig or bird).

sláinte!

Happy St Patrick's Day!

two birds, one stone

Now that we have a back yard (and a front yard!)(we have yards!!), we've unintentionally become amateur bird watchers.

no sufferin' here

I think I knew the phrase "thufferin' thuccotash" long before I actually tasted succotash for the first time.

Do you know that reference? If you grew up in the US during the 80s and 90s, you probably do. Boy, did I love those Saturday morning cartoons. Do they even run cartoons on Saturday mornings anymore? Even if they do, I'm sure they're nowhere near as awesome as the ones airing when I was but a wee lass.

morning person

Though it wasn't always the case, I'd definitely firmly label myself as a morning person.