Going off the grid

We spent Thanksgiving in the middle of Amish country, Ohio. It was just idyllic. We met this family and stayed in these sweet, charming cottages set in the middle of several large farms. This was our backyard:
This was our front yard:
This was the local version of heavy traffic:

This was our hilarious, late-night game-playing, nut-eating company:

Here is what we did (when we weren't busy eating and fire building, of course):

It turned out to be a technology-free weekend. We had no cell phone service, no landline, no internet access. We drove 30 miles to a neighboring town to see a movie (Enchanted - LOVED it!), which oddly enough was a mere two dollars per person (yes, really. I tried to correct the cashier that, no, I wasn't only buying ONE ticket, I needed FIVE. And she said that ten dollars WAS the price for five tickets. I about died).

The kids spent their time hiking in the woods, paddling around on the lake, and chasing a three-legged dog we called Tripod. Tripod had a dog friend that the kids named Little Dog. Little Dog had all four legs, but sometimes only walked on three. We think he didn't want Tripod to feel bad, so he chose to ignore his fourth leg. He's a good friend like that.

Our Thanksgiving meal was spent at the only restaurant in town - The Swiss Chalet. It was such a treat to not have to cook. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it IS possible to sit down for a Thanksgiving dinner and not already be full from all the tasting that happens during cooking. It was nice to finish eating and know that I could walk away, and have no mess to clean up.

It was bliss. I was so sorry to have to leave it and come home.

Upon returning to civilization, the only problem has been convincing The Husband that he does not really want to be Amish. He was loving the no-shaving, live-off-the-land, horse-and-buggy lifestyle. He's ready to go off the grid.

I keep reminding him that for me to go off the grid with him would require at the very least a Target, a telephone, a cell phone, internet access, TIVO, and the blog. All of which pretty much makes up the grid.

Fortunately for me, there are no t.v. football games when you're off the grid. Especially games like this one.

Turns out, convincing him wasn't that hard after all.

Happy Gluttony Day

Just packing and laundering - getting ready to head out of town to spend our holiday with this family that we love. Hope you all eat until you have to undo that top button on your pants, and then sit around with a bottle of Tums and recount your blessings (as I will be doing). Not sure how much blog access I will have in the remote corner of America we're heading to, but I'll be back to regale you with my exciting tales on Sunday.

Adios, amigos.

Thanksgiving Teepee Cupcakes

Since I still have traffic flocking to my little blog looking for photos of Martha nekkid, I thought I'd offer a little Stie-invented / Martha-esque craft so as not to disappoint the pervs when they get here. Plus, this little ditty might be useful to some of you non-porn seekers.

So without further use of the word porn, I present to you: My Thanksgiving teepee cupcakes. I made them for the cub scouts, but they are equally functional as a centerpiece or place card holder for your thanksgiving table.


You will need a package of sugar cones, a cake mix, and an aluminum disposable baking pan.

Mix the cake mix according to package directions. (Or if you're one of those annoying people who only make things from scratch, then mix up your hoity-toity cake batter.)

Take a disposable baking pan, turn it upside down, and cut a few holes in it with scissors. You'll need this to stabilize the cones while they bake. It's funny, but you just can't put the pointy end of a triangle in a pan and expect the triangle to stand up. I don't know why that is, but it just is. So the powers that be require us to find a creative way to bake these little teepees. Stupid laws of physics.


Now pour a few tablespoons of batter in each sugar cone. You don't need very much. You'll want some room at the top for the cake to rise. If you fill it all the way up, it will explode on you and make a big mess on the bottom of your oven that will stink every time you turn on the oven. Not that I'd know anything about that, ahem. So just a little bit, okay?

Then bake at 350 degrees for about ten minutes. You'll have to keep an eye on these in the oven. They like to tip over. I reached my hand into the oven a few times to right the ones that toppled over. I have super powers which allow me to do that. You should probably use an oven mitt.

The cones get a little brown around the edges, but they still taste delicious. Eat a few when the kids aren't looking if you don't believe me. Especially while the cake is still warm. Mmmmmmm.

Once the teepees have cooled for a few minutes flip them upside down. Then snip off a little bit of the cone with kitchen shears. I would not advise doing this before baking as all your batter will fall out the bottom. Again, the physics, you know.

Then stick in a few toothpicks (although I actually used BBQ skewers. For some reason, I buy toothpicks and they're never seen again. I blame the children and fully expect to find boxes and boxes of toothpicks someday. But the skewers worked equally well):

And voila! Beautiful, delicious, homemade teepee cupcakes for your thanksgiving table. If you are more crafty and creative than me [read: not as lazy] then you can decorate your teepees with frosting and candy and whatnot. I made mine for the cub scouts, so they got them as-is (and ate them in all of three seconds).

Happy Turkey Day! God bless gluttony.

34 things you need to know about me

Tomorrow morning at roughly 8:20 a.m., I will be 34. I know some of you are saying, "Puleazze...you're a baby. What do you know?" And others are saying, "Holy crap. Are you really that old?" And you know what? I think I feel somewhere in between.

And in honor of my awesome self, here are 34 things you may or may not know about me, on this, the eve of the anniversary of my birth:

1. I was born absolutely, solidly perfect.

2. That state lasted a solid two-and-a-half years, then Daniel was born and ruined everything.

3. I was going to be a world-famous ice skater.

4. Until I broke my arm skating, had six surgeries, and realized I had no grace.

5. I was a tomboy and had only one Barbie.

6. Whose head I filled with sand.

7. I have four brothers; one older, three younger.

8. I learned how to fight well at an early age.

9. I had a huge crush on Johnny Depp when I was 13. Still do, in fact. Can't wait to see this.

10. I have always been afraid of the dark.

11. I secretly wished I was Jo on the Facts of Life.

12. My first kiss was a short, skinny, blond boy named Rocky.

13. I think we 'broke up' a week later.

14. It was my first crush and heartbreak all at the same time.

15. I always wanted to be a Broadway singer.

16. I realized that dream would not come true (seeing as I can't sing at all) and resigned myself to a life in the audience instead.

17. I am, however, a theater snob and will not watch any show from the balcony or in the back.

18. I spent 75 percent of my senior year cutting class. I probably only graduated because I was taking five Home Economics classes.

19. I still have nightmares about classes I skipped regularly.

20. I have a secret dream to be a professional photographer.

21. When I met my husband for the first time, I knew we would get married.

22. He knew a short few weeks later.

23. I have lived in six different states.

24. My first job was at Subway sandwiches when I was 16.

25. I had bad eczema on my hands and used to tell people I saved my baby brother from a fire, and that the red marks on my hands were burns.

26. I will probably go to hell for that lie alone.

27. I had my first baby without the blessed miracle of science that is an epidural (not by choice).

28. I gratefully had the other two babies while fully numb from the waist down, as god intended.

29. I am extremely afraid of heights and speed. Which explains why roller coasters and I don't work well together.

30. I love hosting parties.

31. I am neurotic and worry about really dumb things.

32. Like the fact that the Husband still has not registered his car in Missouri and has no problem getting speeding tickets.

33. I could never have imagined how much I would love my life today.

34. I am very happy to be me.

So happy birthday wishes to myself. May the next 34 be just as good as the first have been.

P.S. Feel free to send gifts. I'm not bashful that way at all.

E.T. phone home

I have caught The Husband watching this show. Oh, yes, indeed.

More than once.

Our friend Jack, and his LOVELY wife, Rexella, claim that all the floods, earthquakes, and catastrophes of the world are caused by a group of aliens, controlled by one evil alien, sent by Satan himself.

Oookkaay. Interesting.

I have to say that I don't really get the whole televangelist thing. You see these guys on t.v., preaching hellfire and damnation 'til the sweat runs off their hair plugs and down their face, and it just leads me to wonder -- if I watch them, does that count as church for the week? Can you just pick a religion on t.v. and call it good?

I'll be honest, if I'm going to forsake my Religion and pick something to follow on the television, it's probably going to be something with a little more zing to it.

You want resurrection? Plentiful on Pushing Daisies. How about sin and deception? Nobody knows more about that than the hoochie mamas on Wysteria Lane. The fact that CSI can come up with a new spin-off show every year is nothing short of a miracle. And let us not forget Mr. Hefner and his three granddaughters/girlfriends who remind us weekly of the perils of living in sin. [Although most men would probably classify this as a show in which they learn envy. Stupid men.]

So I guess what it boils down to is this: To each his own, right? I am sure the ladies sending their monthly social security check to Jack Van Impe do it because they believe in him. I spend a [crazy] three hours every week at my church because it's what I believe in. And that's good enough for me.

I only hope that if the evil E.T. returns as Jack has prophesied, he brings us the Reese's Pieces.

I could tolerate hell if I had me some peanut butter candies to munch on.

If you thought the picture of bad dog was scary, you should see what came out of my crockpot yesterday

All right, internets. The time has come for a cooking intervention. I served this to my less-than-thrilled family last night:

I know, I know.

So I've decided to stage my own intervention. And every recovery process begins with admitting you have a problem:

Hi. My name is Stie and I cannot cook.

Now those of you who know me in real life, let me clarify that statement by saying that, yes, I can bake like nobody's business. I have never met a baking recipe that I cannot master. But give me a piece of meat? Ten times out of ten I will ruin it.

A large portion of the problem is not really knowing what to make. I tend to recycle the same four recipes each week. My poor, long-suffering husband can take no more. After almost 14 years of marriage, it is time I got some new recipes. He can only smile politely across the table for so long.

So.

What I am proposing is this: I need you to send me your VERY BEST dinner recipes. Send me one; or send me five; but please IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, send me something. Please send me things that you KNOW are good. Your tried-and-trues. Recipes my picky kids will eat, but also recipes decent enough for the husband's slightly more gourmet palate.

[However, I do need to ask that whatever you send me does not include any form of fish. I do not like the fish. I will not eat it in a house. I will not eat it with a mouse. I do not like fish, Sam I am. I do not like fish, that's my stand.]

Here's the kicker, internets. I will try each and every recipe I get. My family will review it, and the overall favorite recipe will receive a $25 giftcard from Amazon for you to spend on yourself (you don't even have to tell your husband you won it, hee hee). It will probably take us a few weeks to get through them all (as I really only tend to cook a few times per week), but before January 1, I promise to have declared a winner.

You can email me the recipes at stiesthoughts@gmail.com or leave your recipe here in the comments. Enter as often as you like. But please help. You do not want my family to eat that soggy beef stew again.

I leave my fate in your hands.