Pretentious

Sunshine likes to eat peanut butter and apples. I don’t get it, but ok.

I’m getting psyched up to go to the big box store for a supply run. Sunshine asked if I had brought any apples home from work. My response just drove home that pretentious feeling I’ve been having about myself lately.

My job is to sell fruit and veggies. In order to sell produce at work, we give free samples to everybody. Once they taste how good our stuff is compared to what they get at the big box stores, we generally wind up with loyal customers.

Before we start giving out samples, we do a lot of tasting. I’ve seen the boss throw out entire shipments of watermelons because they don’t meet his standards. He will try and find someone who will use them for something: feeding livestock, composting, target practice, something. Just this week, a whole shipment of mangoes went away.

Side note: my boss has some seriously high standards for produce. What he calls a “bad” watermelon is still often way better than what can be found in the big box stores. He’s picky as hell. Which means that the shit we sell is superb.

If you ever want to hear anything pretentious, just sit in on a taste-testing session at my work. Or become the fly on the wall inside our heads. It can get a bit pretentious.

Like the aforementioned apples. I’m such a bitch.

Before I started this job, I had already gotten ridiculously picky about apples. I wouldn’t eat any apple that wasn’t an ambrosia apple. Well, my boss got his hands on a new variety of apples: sugar bee. I forget how it came to be that I actually tried one; the boss probably asked my opinion. I was actually impressed with those sugar bee apples. They’re not an ambrosia, but I liked them enough to take some home. Sunshine really liked them, too. Unfortunately, sugar bee apple season is over. So when Sunshine asked if I had brought home any apples, what came out of my mouth was some snobby shit about the flavor being “meh” and the texture being terrible.

It got me to thinking about our taste-testing sessions at work. We critique the melons. We discuss flavor, sweetness, texture, and appearance. I’ve often wrinkled up my nose at watermelons because the texture isn’t right, even though the flavor is exactly right. We get a lot of people wanting black diamond watermelons, and I don’t get it at all. I have yet to taste a black diamond watermelon that was even slightly good, and I feel like a fraud when I sell them to people even though people insist they want one.

Inside my head is even worse.

Like blackberries.

We have a pasture filled with wild, organic blackberries. They are pretty much divine. So I have some pretty exacting standards for blackberries. Most of the blackberries we get at work are just gross to me (mind you, the customers love them because they are light years beyond anything they’ve encountered in big box stores). I taste a floral note to most of the blackberries available out there, and I don’t like it. Sometimes, the floral note almost tastes like a chemically induced floral note, which I abhor.

Cantaloupe. I hadn’t eaten a cantaloupe in decades until this job. I was always disappointed by the ones I bought. Well, I was never disappointed by my boss’s cantaloupes. And then he introduced me to Pecos cantaloupe. He created a monster. I refuse to buy any cantaloupe that isn’t a pecos, not even for Sunshine. The Pecos cantaloupe has such a thick, rich, stereotypically cantaloupe-y flavor; they are also so sweet that it’s like cantaloupe flavored liquid sugar.

I can’t stop thinking how pretentious it seems to dismiss entire varieties of cantaloupe, and an entire type of watermelons, and all apples except one or two strains, and entire categories of foods (blackberries, strawberries, etcetera) because I’m such a picky bitch.

Now, I’m off to eat a slightly green banana. Because the yellow ones are too mushy.

Somebody please save me from myself. Because this sort of pretentious nonsense is going to wind up starving me to death.

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I am a domestic goddess

Not really, but I sure felt like it yesterday. I did all the things:

  • Started a roast and rainbow carrots in the crockpot
  • Rounded up all the dirty laundry–it was everywhere
  • Made doo-doo balls (that’s what I’m naming those nut butter/oat/chia seed snack balls)
  • Made a couple of decisions with Sunshine & Rude Ass down at the house
  • Actually washed and dried all the laundry, AND got it put away
  • Rounded up a giant canvass bag to collect aluminum cans in
  • Rounded up all the stray aluminum cans and bagged them
  • Cleaned the mess I made in the kitchen with the doo-doo balls
  • Finished crocheting all the pieces of the floor pillow I’ve been working on

I’m kind of disgusted with how domesticated I was yesterday. I’m also kind of disgusted that I didn’t get the floors cleaned, because they’re kind of gross with little scraps of yarn and bits of grass and mud and all that other country fried shit that covers floors when you live in the buttfuck middle of nowhere.

Now for my monthly review:

  • I did get some rest to heal my body. Unfortunately, most of it was forced on me my a couple of bouts of flu or something
  • I did start tai-chi
  • I made a hat out of one of the scrumptious secret Santa yarns
  • The kitchen cabinets have been planned and the cabinet maker is working on them
  • I did binge watch season 2 of “Travelers”, and I didn’t like the way it ended.
  • I haven’t figured out what to do about the cinder block walls of the closet. There are so many ideas, it’s just hard to choose!
  • The Christmas decorations are packed away

Not a bad month, if I do say so myself.

I do have my next guest post lined up for next week (The ecoFeminist… squeeee!). I decided that I don’t want to call the guest posts from other bloggers “meet the Flintstones” because I don’t want to insult them by including them in the insanity of the very real Flintstones/cave people that I live and work with. I think I’ll borrow a term from the Chickasaw Nation: citizens at large. That’s what they call citizens who live outside the tribal boundaries. I like that it stretches the nation/community outside of their geographical boundaries, and emphasizes that we are all connected. So, when another blogger is guest posting, those will be “citizens at large” posts, because the boundaries of the blogging community are spread far and wide. Each of you has touched me in very real ways, whether you’re “next door” in Oklahoma or “next door” in Canada, and I’m grateful for what each of you adds to my life. I’m hoping that the guest posts from other bloggers introduces you to new citizens at large that can touch your lives, too.

Now, this domestic goddess is off to go domesticate some shit. What that might be? Remains to be seen. I’m sure you’ll hear about it sooner or later. Who else is going to pat me on the back for adulting like an actual adult?

Snacks

I love snack foods. I especially love snack foods when I’m at work. I love snack foods at work so much that I have snack foods in a bag, in the walk-in cooler,  the cabinets, my pockets…

Side note: this week, I found a handful of unskilled roasted peanuts in the pocket of my coat. Of course, I ate them. I was hungry, what else would you expect me to do with them?

The problem with snack foods is that my primary physician says i have to lose weight. So, in keeping with doctor’s orders, I decided that I was going to make some snack balls to take to work with me. I used this recipe as my starting point. I added dark chocolate and increased the amount of coconut in it. I used the homemade vanilla I got from the EcoFeminist in our jar goods swap.

I had to get Mr B to come help me sample them, because he’s been an experienced cook for a lot of decades (It’s a Cajun thing), and he’s good at pinpointing what’s off and how to fix it. We wound up with a mixture we liked and I popped them in the fridge to set.

Trying to fit that cookie sheet in my dinky fridge just frustrated me all over again with the never-ending game of tetris my life has become. I’m so ready to be in the new house it’s not funny.

Now, I’m off to have a snack.

Final note: how did you expect me to end this post? I did warn you I love snack foods. 

Bigger in Texas

When I was out and about searching for seeds for beans to plant, I saw a package of the weirdest green beans that I had ever seen. It’s called the yard long green bean or something.

Of course, being the weirdo that I am, I had to buy some and give them a try.

We picked a couple the other day and ate them raw just out of curiosity. They’re really sweet. I think that this shall be the green beans I plant from this day forward. That’s a lot of green beans to can from not a lot of plants.

 

Battle Scars

I’ve been back in the blackberry patch a lot here lately. There are so many blackberries to pick, because there are so many things I want to try. Things like blackberry biscuits, blackberry honey butter, blackberry freezer jam, blackberry syrup, blackberry cobbler…

The big problem with this is the stickers and briars on the blackberry bushes. I look like I’ve been in battle.

Those blackberry biscuits with blackberry honey butter had better be fucking good.

More Freegan Zucchini

The neighbors are bringing us a lot of zucchini.

Not only is the quantity of zucchini squashes large, the size of those zucchini squashes is large.

Photographic proof.

I don’t know what the fuck they’re feeding these zucchinis, but this shit is ridiculous.

I’m going to have to go through those pins that Tia is finding me for ways to cook zucchini that aren’t stir fry.