Liquid Dinner

Most of the time, I like to drink icy cold beer in a longneck bottle. My preference is for domestic brands with a light, watery flavor - generally not-very-well-respected by regular beer drinkers. Gotta keep an eye on the waistline . . . never mind that I just tossed out the scale. No, a new one is not on Santa's list.

The holidays can wreak havoc on the mid-section, hips, thighs and jowls. As I sit down to respond to a few holiday party invitations (and "weigh" the consequences), I remembered the strategy of the parents of dear friends -- Thursday Night Liquid Dinner. Once a week, these mature adults, over the age of 21, drink their dinner (responsibly, at home). Skip the meat and potatoes. Forgo the heaping bowl of pasta. Mix up a delicious drink. Sip with the s.o.s.o. ("spouse or significant other"). Devour delightful conversation. Turn in early for a little extra beauty sleep.

Here's their Cosmo recipe that is sometimes on the Thursday night menu.

Cosmopolitans

1 1/2 cups vodka (use a good one, please)

1/2 cup triple sec

1/2 cup Rose's lime juice

2 1/2 cups 100% cranberry juice

Mix in a pitcher and chill before serving.

Is it Thursday yet?

A Bountiful Harvest

The mess of vegetables and greens turned into this lovely Thanksgiving arrangement to be auctioned off tonight at a fundraiser for the gardens at Holy Trinity Church in Georgetown.

Why vegetables? Surely, the harvest of edibles from the garden just inspires a display. But, the real reason is that the other arrangements will be designed, crafted and created by truly professional floral designers. My realm is outside, not inside. I had to diverge from the traditional and take a completely new slant on the holiday table decor (turkey not included).

For those curious about the yellow thing in the previous post, it's Citrus medica var. sarcodactylus, Buddha's Hand and is often used in Asian cooking. It didn't make the final cut today.

The following is the list of vegetables and herbs that are in the arrangements:

Allium porrum, Leek
Asparagus officinalis, Asparagus
Brassica oleracea var. gemmifera, Brussel Sprout
Brassica oleracea var. acephala ‘Georgia’, Georgia Collard
Brassica oleracea var. acephala ‘Bicolor’, Ornamental Kale
Brassica oleracea var. capitata, Purple Cabbage
Brassica oleracea var. italica, Broccolette
Brassica rapa ruvo, Broccoli Raab
Brassica rapa, Turnip
Cynara scolymus, Artichoke
Petroselinum neapolitan, Flat-leaf Parsley
Raphanus sativus, Radish

What in the World . . .

. . . could this mess turn into?

Check back Friday for the answer - and bonus points for anyone who can identify the yellow thing in the photograph.

"No"vember Update

Only two weeks into the month and I've just now remembered it's my month to decline invitations to do anything I don't want to do, or don't have time to do, or think I do have time to do but really don't have time to do. Squandered away these precious two weeks (for reference, please read "Volunteer Junkie" posted 9/23/09).

So far, the tally is way too long - planted pots at our library today (in the dark, no less - more on this when I can take photos in the daylight hours), helping a priest create an arrangement with Biblical inspiration for an auction (and believe me, there will be more on this), help with an online auction at my daughter's new school (I swore "auction" was a banned word in my personal dictionary), and help my husband develop a website for his newest entrepreneurial endeavor (harder to say no to him, well, not really, but I'm a sucker for blue eyes).

Am I doomed?

Patience Is Indeed a Virtue

As I tromped back to the house after putting the trash out early this morning, I was greeted with a lovely November surprise, a fall blooming camellia literally bursting with blossoms.

I planted this Camellia sasanqua 'Autumn Moon' in my garden three years ago. It has struggled to make itself at home, even though it is sited perfectly - protected from the harsh southern exposures, partial shade (morning sun, afternoon shade), in moist, but well-drained acidic soil. William Ackerman could not have found a better spot for this plant in my garden. I pass it many times each day as I leave and return home. I've watched and waited. And today, at last, the reward.

Oooh, the metaphors for growing children . . .