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Sleeping, muffing, and leftovers

April 27, 2012

Tasted better than they look!

The sleeping continues apace. If you can sleep apace, that is? Either way, I keep snuggling up with Miss Fly at her bedtime and drifting off. She likes to have Radio 3 on while she is going to sleep, and I drifted off to pleasing strains of Vivaldi – only to wake up a couple of hours later to the less pleasing tones of the Poet Lancastrian.

So. Housework. Not happening. I did at least get the washing up achieved and will shine my sink before bedtime – the morning and bedtime routines are still holding out at least, so all is not lost. However. All I can say right now is: Hooray for week 9!

The cooking situation, however, is kind of OK.

Today after school we made blueberry muffins – we overfilled the cases so they rose, overflowed, and then sank – but they actually tasted good. Not the best cakes I’ve ever made in the history of ever making cakes – but good enough. Good enough for a (re)beginner, at least.

And then I made spaghetti bolognese, which was also pretty decent. Even I didn’t need a recipe for that one, but anyway I did read the NHS meal planner recipe and remembered to add the carrots, which was good. I forgot the peas, but guacamole’s green too, so must surely be considered an acceptable substitute? Yes?

I’m not very good, yet, at cooking for only two people. Everything seems to come in family-of-four quantities – from the bag of quorn mince on down to the amount of muffin mix you have to make in order to avoid using “half an egg”. It doesn’t help that I’m never certain how much Miss Fly is going to eat – her appetite fluctuates from “Hm, not that hungry, actually, I just want two bites” all the way to eating three bowls of pasta and complaining there isn’t more. I have for years made myself eat leftovers, despising the waste. Or at least keep them until they become inedible and I have to throw them away anyway. They used to pile up in the fridge, staring at me daily, yet another source of guilt.

A gift from the chooks

Having the chickens is liberating here. I can give them the leftovers and not have to question my inability to make just the right amount of food. They come running now, and guzzle up pasta or cous cous or whatever I’ve got on offer – and I’m happy to be relieved of both the leftovers and the guilt that comes with them.

I’m happy enough, that I didn’t even seem to mind that much when two of them wandered into the house this afternoon and left me this little present.

(And I could hear FlyLady in my head saying: “I know you’re going to clean that up right now, friend, aren’t you?” Meekly, I did.)

Maybe I will, one day, get this portion control thing right and have the aha moment that allows me to put half the quorn back in the freezer, to leave half an egg as a contribution towards the next day’s breakfast – or even (horrors!) to freeze leftovers to eat another day. But in the meantime we’ll be doing our best to guzzle a dozen cakes within the mandatory 24-hour limit, and feeding our excess dinner to the chickens.

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