firsts

I have fantasies about being a homesteader. Primarily the gardening, the canning, and the chickens. Because really, how great would it be to pull a mason jar full of hibiscus-scented peaches that you canned during the scorching days of July from your fully stocked larder on, say, some gloomy day in January. Instant summer. (And maybe also a little instant smugness about your astute forethought, but you would be entitled to that. Hibiscus. Scented. Peaches. People.)

There are, however, a couple of things getting in the way of this:

1. I rent. Which means no garden of my own, no larder (I'm not even sure where it would fit in such a tiny kitchen), and absolutely no on the chickens.


2. I am completely, utterly lazy.

I had pretty much gotten over the sting of this reality – you know, I could probably buy someone else’s home-canned peaches and be perfectly happy and equally smug about my forethought – but then Rick, perhaps in a burst of Wheaties-induced fortitude, proclaimed, “I’m going to start doing things I never thought I’d do. One of them, every week.” And when you know Rick, you understand that when he starts talking like this, only good things to eat can follow. I am immediately on board with this plan.


First up: making butter. Ta-Da!

I would like to be able to tell you all that I was an exemplary assistant in this endeavor, that I admirably performed useful duties like scraping the whipping cream from the sides of the bowl, pre-chilling the ramekins, or setting out the sieve and colander to be conveniently ready when needed. Alas! My sole contribution was to exploit this unexpected photo opportunity by shoving nearly every camera I own into the mixing bowl in the hope of getting a good shot. Not only that, while the just-whipped (churned?) butter rested, I had the chutzpa the set the bowl, contents and all, on the floor.



Oh, just for the picture(s). Pinky swear. Please don't tell me if you spot a cat hair in the mix. (Also please don't notice that the fabric I used as a backdrop needs a bit of ironing. See “reasons I am not a homesteader,” above, number 2.)

So his first first is down. Mission accomplished. And I got more than a little excited about it. In fact, I felt a flood of motivation to take on a first of my own.



I present to you the first shot taken with my new Fuji Instax. (A surprise gift from Rick. And perhaps also a masterful ploy to get his digital camera back?)

It's ok; you can say it. It’s pretty much crap as a picture goes. Or at least as framing goes. (Oh well) So for my mission this week I have assigned myself some serious quality time with the Instax. That, and buttered toast every morning. (Don't worry. I'll let you know how that goes too.)