As the sausage turns.

I went to the Piazza farmer's market today with Jaime and her daughter, Abby. While I only bought strawberries and radishes (huge radishes!), I was glad to get out of the house and away from the four footed mongrels that torment my existence if I so much as sit still for even a moment. Yes, Squirt, you are cute, but you torture me with your constant need to be chasing the ball.

Who me?


Thanks to the purveyor's of the Renaissance Sausage truck for keeping it real for the vegetarians of the world. I give you the veggie sausage sandwich. Delicious.





As it is a holiday weekend, I have a feeling that the Piazza farmer's market was sparsely populated by vendors. Thus, we headed to the Headhouse farmer's market to see who else was about. The answer: no one. Except for the Buttercream cupcake truck. Yes, I made a meal off of food trucks today. I haven't done that since college. The Turtle cupcake that I ate was awesome: vanilla cupcake with caramel frosting topped with pecans and chocolate ganache. You would see a picture below, except I ate the cupcake too quickly. Hence, you can gaze in wonder at the cupcake offerings.



For the record, my husband says I am obsessed with the idea of food trucks. And why not? What other venue gives you such flexibility of location and low overhead? It forces you to keep your menu limited to what you know you do well! I think Gordon Ramsay would approve of the many gourmet/specialty food trucks that have been cropping up of late. I know these two have my wholehearted support.

The Good Stuff

The bad stuff in my life right now is getting a little better. There is a plan of attack to make it go away. It is complicated and frustrating and scary and exciting all at once. It won't be easy, of course. Why should it be?

But there is also some good stuff. I got home yesterday and found a surprise waiting for me. My awesome friend Richard, aka Horsebites, had gifted me with a print of my favorite of his paintings.



Growing up, I spent a lot of family vacations in Orlando, Florida, and at Disney World in particular. There are both good and bad memories. Some dark stuff happened...like the time my dad jammed cigarette butts from the car ashtray into my mouth while we were stuck in Orlando traffic because I was being a smart-ass. (Yeah, we don't talk anymore.) The same dad would ride every roller coaster with me and act like a giant goofball. For some reason, I feel like this picture adequately captures those memories, the good ones and the bad ones. I've coveted it since I saw the original hanging in a gallery in Lancaster.

Thanks, Richard.

Now, after reading this, go buy some of his stuff, pronto. He's staying at my house right now, and he eats like a horse, so he needs to be making some cash! (I might also make a comment about his penchant for passing very loud gas on my couch, but I am a respectable lady, and will refrain from such talk.)

Beautiful Days

You know how a day can be so heart-achingly beautiful that eventually you just know it is going to turn to shit? Yeah, that happened to me Saturday. Except, I'm only going to write about the good stuff that happened. Because the bad stuff...pthbbbt...that is me giving the bad stuff a great big raspberry. The bad stuff going on in my life right now can just go straight to hell.

For a long while I have been online stalking the author of the blog Food in Jars. Marisa McClellan is a local food writer who happens to be obsessed with preserving, and who teaches classes that are walking distance from my place of employment. While I missed out on last summer's classes, this year, I vowed I would not make the same mistake. Hence, when she announced her class schedule on her blog earlier this spring, I quickly registered for the Rhubarb Chutney class. Why chutney, you ask? Well, the spouse is completely obsessed with chutney and cheese. Whenever we eat at Farmicia, we order the cheese plate which comes with chutney. We have to get extra chutney for the spouse. He inhales it. Thus, chutney class.

I was initially apprehensive about attending a class full of strangers (it all goes back to being really awkward in school and dreading any new social situations), but I was accompanied by my best bud Jaime, so I felt protected and safe! And my worry was for naught. The class was small and intimate, only 8 people plus Marisa, and we were all there for the same reason. We gathered in an Ikea furnished kitchen in a group work space for an hour and half, and learned to make chutney. I got to chop rhubarb! And an onion! I stirred! I filled a jar! Trust me, this is actually exciting. Marisa has a very engaging teaching style, and manages to provide a lot of helpful general preserving tips throughout the lesson. I now envision myself making pickles and preserves regularly! Woohoo, another hobby!

Jaime lamented her lack of camera, because she saw a great shot, so I used my iPhone to try and capture the moment for her. (For the record, the Shake It Photo app can make any photo look super "arty.")



After class was completed, Jaime and I took our souvenir jars of chutney and proceeded to walk through Old City. Conveniently, there was a "sidewalk sale" event going on. I got a new wallet and a sweet little bottle cap necklace. Then we had a great lunch and went home. Honestly, while walking back to my car, I kept thinking how perfect the day had been up to that point.

It is at this point that the shitty parts of my life start to intrude, thus I will end this here. The shitty things going on will greatly influence much of what occurs in my life for the foreseeable future. My goal is to not let them take over.

Wildwood Days

My parents live at the Jersey shore. I went there this weekend to do some sewing with my mom and to celebrate Mother's Day. Neat fact about the Wildwood Boardwalk: Moms ride all amusements free on Mother's Day, and all adult women are Moms. Score for childless me! I love roller coasters.

I'm pretty sure I went on a "date" as a teen and saw Boyz N The Hood here:


Best Ride:


In a month, this beach will be packed:


This ride made me nauseous. What's up with that? Getting old sucks.

111 Posts

I've been avoiding this space because I have nothing good to say. For the last 11 weeks, the spouse has been working in Baltimore. He comes home on weekends exhausted. For the next couple of weekends, our schedules will be such that we will barely see one another, first with me traveling then with him traveling.

Because I spend the week home alone eating unsatisfying food, I often want to eat out on weekends. The spouse eats out for all of his meals all week, and probably wants delicious home cooked meals when he is home. It's quite frustrating, because I feel guilty for not cooking good food for him while he is home. While I usually enjoy preparing elaborate meals, I hate that I will spend a lot of time on a given weekend day in the kitchen preparing meals or cleaning up after one. There are also the normal weekend chores to attend to...laundry, housecleaning, etc. Yes, I do it all, from food shopping to clean up. I'm going to stop this train of thought now, before I start getting pissed that I've essentially become a professional housekeeper.

I am kind of hating life right now.

I am also hovering in indecision on many things, some big, some small. One small thing: should I even continue to post here? I enjoy Twittering a bit more. I like Flickr as well. But the blog, eh. No one reads it, and I don't blame them. I've even considered deleting my Facebook account. I won't, though, because I am seriously addicted to the Scrabble.