Clutter Meter. Pretend Poodle.

I’ve always tried to keep a fairly clean house. Or at least, a fairly uncluttered house. Since clutter makes me break out in hives, I’m usually on “clutter alert,” looking for opportunities to reorganize or straighten or get rid of stuff so that there is at least a semblance of order surrounding me.

But this week? Not so much.

This week, clutter will rule my world. Because this week, we are painting. And by “we,” I mean that Steve is painting and I am oohing and ahhing and telling him how wonderful it looks. Painting is not my gift. Trust me on that.

And so this week, I am busy recalibrating my Clutter Meter so that it doesn’t go off with all sorts of bells, whistles and alarms when I catch a glimpse of these kinds of sights.

But the good thing about clutter? And painting?

It means that we are one step closer to getting rid of this old, stained carpet and getting our new carpet installed. I am so very excited about ridding our second floor of blue. Although I have seen many homes decorated beautifully in blue, I don’t own even one blue decoration or accessory, so it’s been a bit of a challenge to try to make all of our browns, golds, and berry colors fit in with the acres of blue that we inherited when we bought the house.

We will also be getting rid of all of these marks and scratches on the walls. Yippee!

This morning, Snowy even dropped by the painting area to take a look around and see if anyone needed a Doggie Supervisor on site. (Since he can only supervise between naps though, it sort of limits his career opportunities in that field.) While he was perusing the painting process, I took his picture so that you could see his poor little pitiful legs. The vet obviously shaved one leg for an IV, couldn’t find a vein and then had to shave the other one.

Here’s another shot of his shorn self.

He looks just like a Pretend Poodle! (But don’t tell him I said that. Because he still think he’s all macho, and everything.)

Recipes and Rambling: Poppy Seed Casserole

I know. I know. I already posted this recipe a few weeks ago. However, it was sans pictures and sans rambling and we we can’t have that now, can we?

And since some of you were having a bit of trouble trying to picture what the end result was supposed to look like, I thought it would be helpful if I posted an end result pictures. Right here. Right now. Just for you. Because I’m nice like that.

This is the casserole my sister, Debbie, made when she and mom were staying with us after my mastectomy. Something about this casserole just tasted so delicious to me when I finally felt like eating again; in fact, I remember feeling distinctly disheartened, deeply distressed, and downright discombobulated when the last of the casserole leftovers disappeared from our fridge.

A post-mastectomy woman who has delved into the depths of discombobulation is not a pretty sight. So. Let’s just move along, shall we?

To make this wonderful casserole, here are the steps . . . from my slightly wacky perspective.

First, cook egg noodles till tender; drain.

Open cream cheese. Amuse yourself by standing the cream cheese package on its end and arranging the foil so that it looks like one of those high-collared dresses that queens used to wear. Chuckle and pat yourself on your back for your brilliance and witty creativity. (Note: It is probably best to make sure you are alone when you do this so that your family does not think you have suddenly gone bonkers. Giggling over cream cheese dressed like historical queens is not generally regarded as socially acceptable behavior.)

Step over the dog who believes that it is his duty to find the most inconvenient place in the kitchen to stand. And then stands there. (Please note that he is between me and the stove, in addition to the counter that holds my ingredients.)

Soften cream cheese a bit (30 seconds) in the microwave. I try to ignore the fact that my microwave hasn’t been cleaned since 1943 and is full of mysterious food stains that will never (ever) come off. Even if I tried really hard to get them off. Which I haven’t. Because I’m lazy like that.

Measure out a cup of cottage cheese. Random Confession: I do not eat cottage cheese—at all, ever, not to mention never—unless it is in a casserole. Plain cottage cheese? Eaten with a spoon? With nothing to disguise its cottage cheese-ness? Eeck. (I’m only telling you this so that if I ever come to your house for a meal, you will not put cottage cheese on the menu.)

I firmly believe that it’s always more picturesque and eye catching if a little dribble of cottage cheese falls down the side of the cup. And please ignore the fact that I over filled the cup and didn’t level off the cottage cheese the way a good cook is supposed to. Sometimes I just get a little carried away and overdo things just a little teensy tad. (Because I’m bad like that.)

While the noodles are still hot, mix them with the cottage cheese, cream cheese, yogurt and poppy seeds.

Your little ol’ casseroled concoction should look like this. Kind of exotic, isn’t it?

Now this is about what it should like once you’ve gushed it all together. Ain’t it purty? Well, maybe it’s not purty, but it is sort of yummy looking. (If you like like white and speckled globules of noodled food, that is.)

Step around the dog. Again. Sigh loudly. (Snowy’s main passion in life—the thing that gets him up in the mornings—is that each day holds for him the promise that some small morsel of food might accidentally fall to the kitchen floor, thereby becoming officially and irrefutably his. Standing guard over the floor and all its wondrous possibilities is his primary calling in life.)

Now. Where was I?

Oh yes. Brown meat (adding pepper and salt and onion if you’d like) and drain. Then add tomato sauce.

Dig through disorganized cupboard and find Pam. (Do you see that bag of pecans? I always feel extra happy about life when I have a bag of pecans in the cupboard. I just thought you might like to know that.)

And in case you’re wondering why the pen is in the cupboard, it’s because my grocery list is taped to that particular cupboard door and it makes me feel all nicely organized when the pen is right at my fingertips whenever I feel the need to write something on The List. (Don’t you feel better for having learned that?)

Now. Spray your pan with Pam. Actually, I sprayed the pan at the beginning of the recipe—you can tell ‘cause all the surrounding containers are still full—but you can spray the pan anytime you jolly well please. I will let you be the boss of when you decide to do your Pam pan spaying.

Spread 3/4 of the noodles and cheese mixture on the bottom of the Pam-sprayed pan. (And if you’re like me and not good at math, then ignore the whole three-fourths bit and just put in “most of a whole lot” of the noodles.) Then add 3/4 of the hamburger mixture, leaving a border.

Fight with the very real temptation to step ON the dog rather than around him.

Spread the rest of the noodles (leaving a border) and then finish with the meat on top leaving—you guessed it!—a border.

I just absolutely adore these borders. They make my heart almost as happy as when I have pecans in my cupboard.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes (covered) and then uncover and bake 10 minutes more. Here is the finished product. Is that beautiful, or what?

When I first posted this recipe, I asked Sarah to make a diagram for me to show how the layers were supposed to look. I think it was a lovely and helpful diagram. (Thanks, Sarah!)

The best part of this casserole is that it re-heats very well. However, it may be difficult to maintain all the borders once the casserole has already been through one serving. When I reheated it, I just smushed it all together, sprinkled a little shredded cheddar and parsley on top of it and it was still pretty, even though it wasn’t layered.

But I’m good with that. I’m still happy. I’m able to deal with an occasional spell of non-layeredness in my life--as long as I have pecans in my cupboard.

(The non rambling version.)

Poppy Seed Casserole

10 oz egg noodles (wheat or regular)

1 lb ground hamburger or turkey

15 oz can tomato sauce

1 C cottage cheese

8 oz. package cream cheese, softened

1/2 C vanilla yogurt

1 T poppy seeds

1. Cook noodles till tender; drain. While they’re hot, toss with cottage cheese, cream cheese, yogurt and poppy seeds.

2. Brown meat—may add salt, pepper, and onion if desired. (To save a little time, you can brown the meat while the noodles are cooking.)

3. Drain meat and stir in tomato sauce.

4. Spray 9x13 pan with cooking spray and spread 3/4 of noodles and cheese mixture on bottom of pan.

5. Spread 3/4 of meat mixture over that, leaving a 1-inch border.

6. Spread the rest of the noodles, leaving a border.

7. Top with remaining meat, leaving a border.

Bake 30 minutes at 350 degrees covered; uncover and bake 10 minutes more.

This also heats up great as a leftover

Poor, Poor Doggy.

Yesterday, Snowy had to get his teeth cleaned. For you and me, that’s not such a big deal, but dogs have to be put to sleep for that procedure. We haven’t had his teeth cleaned in the ten years we’ve had him (I know, I know, we’re bad doggy parents) but it’s fairly expensive ($160) and it was just never “a good time” to have it done. We’ve been told time after time by various vets that he needed to have it done, not just for dental hygiene reasons but also because bacteria in the mouth can also spread through the body and cause problems in other places.

So finally we just decided to go ahead and “git ‘er done.”

Sarah and I were gone to Virginia when Steve brought Snowy home after the procedure at 1 pm; he had been awake from his anesthesia for a couple hours but according to Steve, he was still rather loopy and drunk. When he walked around the living room, he kept on sliding sideways on his little rear because he couldn’t keep his balance. He had a rattle in his lungs, was in a good bit of pain, and couldn’t eat anything.

At one point, Steve couldn’t find him anywhere and went on a house-wide search for him. He finally discovered Snowy on the third floor in Sarah’s room, tucked in on the floor next to her little pink footstool—the footstool he usually sits on top of when she’s in the room with him.

We didn’t get back home till about 5 pm and by that point, Snowy was desperately needing the nursing attention of his two ladies. He was all shaky and whimpery and was making the most piteous little sounds you’ve ever heard. Sarah grabbed him and immediately went into Full Nursing Mode.

You can see the blue Band-Aid on Snowy’s foot where he had the IV.

There’s a lot of love between these two.

The vet told us that Snowy would probably not have a very good night and Sarah graciously agreed to be the one to deal with him so that Steve and I could rest.

This morning, this is how I found them.

Snowy is trying to display his newly cleaned teeth for his Smithellaneous friends.

Then he got a little embarrassed for being such a show off.

Such a peaceful scene and so good to see our little buddy feeling a little better.

A Window on Wanchese

Yesterday I went out to lunch with a lady from our church.

We ate at a restaurant in the village of Wanchese (WAN-cheese), which is on the south end of Roanoke Island. Manteo is about five miles away on the north end of the island. And that’s all there is on our teeny island—two little ol’ towns!

While both towns were named after Indian chiefs, they are very different from each other. The residents have worked diligently at keeping their village unspoiled and unchanged and it is truly a delightful—and different—sort of place to visit.

We ate here.

Fisherman’s Wharf is not like most restaurants. In fact, it’s not even like most seafood restaurants.

For one thing, you can look out the restaurant window and see fishing boats pull up. The tube you see in the picture vacuums up the catch from the boats and deposits it into some mysterious reservoir under (or behind?) the restaurant. (My seafood knowledge is nil.)

Not only does seafood come into the restaurant from the water side, it is also brought in on big trucks to the front of the restaurant. Talk about fresh seafood! I wouldn’t be surprised if the tuna I ate at lunch had still been swimming in the deep blue sea just a few hours earlier.

Just a mile or two from that restaurant is Wanchese Seafood Industrial Park, the only one of its kind in the nation. Millions of pounds of fresh fish and seafood are unloaded there. Products from the industrial park are shipped to points all along the East Coast, and around the world from Norfolk International Airport.

(I just love that kind of trivia.)

Anyway . . . back to lunch. Because we all know how much I love lunch! And breakfast! And dinner! And snacks! And chocolate! (Somebody stop me!)

The views at the Fisherman’s Wharf are interesting and quaint no matter what direction one looks.

This is a crab house at the end of the parking lot at Fisherman’s Wharf; I’m not sure if the two places are connected but I just loved this little building. I’m not exactly sure what that yellow plastic shovel is for. Do people shovel shrimp into their own container? As I said, my knowledge in this area is nil. Less than nil, even.

Wanchese really is like a little town in a novel and most definitely worth experiencing.

I’ll close out with a few more paragraphs about Wanchese taken from its website.

The village of Wanchese seems a world away from the Outer Banks, even though it's only a few miles down the road. Wanchese isn't exactly a tourist town; it's a fishing village and has almost always been one. Long before the first European explorers landed, the Algonquin Indians, and perhaps others before them, traveled to the southern end of what is now known as Roanoke Island to fish and gather shellfish.

If you take a drive around Wanchese, don't bother to look for the downtown area as there isn't one, unless you count the post office. However, two-lane roads wind about the village, and the homes here are an eclectic mix, many with small rowboats and brightly colored decoys as yard art. You'll discover neighborhoods where mobile homes are neighbors to new construction, old farmhouses, and slightly tumble-down homes from a generation or two before.

There are a few diners, a bed and breakfast inn, and even a couple of art galleries. For decades, the population has consisted of mostly fishermen and the children of fishermen, but that's beginning to change as folks from other parts discover the town's quiet, not yet commercialized atmosphere, a refuge from the beach--even though it's just down the road.

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Today Sarah and I will be driving to Virginia Beach (about 4 hours round trip) to go to a funeral for a church member’s relative. We happened to have two funerals that got scheduled back to back, so Sarah and I are going to one, and Steve will go to the other.

Sarah, of course, is happy about the chance for a road trip. That girl loves to travel! Hmmmm. Wonder where she got that quality from? Could it be that it’s because she was in 37 states by the time she was six years old?

Naw. Must be something else . . ..

Bargains and Cars and Folding Chairs

Most of you know I love a bargain.  Here are a couple of my recent bargain-y outfits.

Shirt: $3.00    Skirt:  $1     Shoes: $15   (new/on sale)

The shoes weren’t quite as big of a bargain as everything else but since I’ve worn them at least 100 times since buying them two years ago, my “cost per wearing” is actually pretty low.

 

 Shirt:  $3.00     Pants: $7.00:  Shoes: $3.00   

I have actually come to the point in life where I actually shudder at the thought of going to a mall.  (Unless I’m just there to people watch and get an ice cream cone.)    I suppose if I were very wealthy, I might pop into a mall every now and then, but truthfully, I could still see myself pulling my Porsche up to a Goodwill every week or two, as well!  Goodwill is a good habit.

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Last week I wrote about the fact that I don’t notice the vehicles people drive as much as Steve does; he can take a three second glance at something going by and give me a ten point report about it.  I can barely tell you what color the car was.

It was funny--just a couple hours after I wrote that post, Steve and I attended the bi-weekly Senior’s Luncheon held in our church’s gym and noticed these cars parked outside. Even someone like me would notice cars like these! The great part about these vehicles is that they are both driven by ladies in their 60’s and 70’s.  

As soon as I turn seventy, I am trading in my mini van for a red Mustang . . .

. . . or a yellow, um, whatever this is.  It is certainly cute!

 

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A few comments. . . .

Shannon said,  “Hi Becky, What website did you use to create your doggie picture? I think you've used it before. I think it would be fun to play around with!”

Shannon, I did that at photofunia.com.  Unfortunately, it’s been a year or so since I did it and that particular graphic seems to have disappeared. From what I can tell about that site, they bring in new graphics pretty frequently and remove old ones.   So although you can’t do that exact “trick” with your photos, there are plenty of other cool ones to choose from—like these.

    

 

 

I especially enjoyed these comments about Sarah and I being so classy that we would take folding chairs to an outdoor concert!

Kelly Dunn said, “Ha-ha...the folding chairs were the first thing I noticed when I got to that picture! Manteo seems so neat!”

Kelly, I was hoping that our folding chairs would attract absolutely NO attention. Oh well! (And yes, Manteo is truly a wonderful place to live.)

Rachel said, “My dad used to drag me and my mom to "bluegrass" concerts when I was little. And, yes, we often had card table chairs. My dad, to this day, prefers to use them (he said those other chairs sink down until the circulation in your legs gets cut off). And....here's the funniest part. He used to glue carpet padding to the chairs to make them soft. Yes, the green-blue-pink multi color stuff. Really, you have nothing to complain about :)

Rachel, I was actually sorely tempted (and I use “sore” in the most literal sense) to attach something to the seats of our chairs.  I really thought I had plenty of natural padding to make the chairs plenty comfortable but after an hour of sitting, even green, blue, and pink carpet padding would have been a welcome addition.

Maybe that’s what I need to do to set myself apart from my fellow Manteo-ers and all the tourists—carry around folding chairs enhanced with carpet padding.

Hmmmmmm . . .

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Lastly, sometimes I run across a blog that is so incredible that it makes me never want to write another word or take another picture for as long as I live.

If you look in the right sidebar, you’ll see A Holy Experience.  It’s a great place to drop by if you just need a spot of beauty and peace in a hectic, crazy day.     Ann’s writing is beyond gorgeous and her photography is even more lovely than her writing. 

If you have a moment or two, do yourself a favor and go by and see her.