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Wednesday, August 1, 2007

tarpaper still

My brother- and sister-in-law have lent us the orange cleaner they used to get the tarpaper off their floor, and I'm pleased to say that it works pretty well. There are a lot of areas that need multiple coats--like 5 or 6--but at least I can see some progress being made. I've set a goal for myself to get the floor cleaned and painted by Christmas, so today I have on some groovy kneepads that keep coming unstrapped when I kneel down, the dadgummers.

I called our electrician the other day to install the new lights in the kitchen, but he hasn't called back yet. He's always wicked busy, because he's the best electrician around. We loved the job he did for us when he rewired the entire house after we moved in. He cleans up after himself, instead of leaving a bunch of plaster and wire ends and dust everywhere, and he's really meticulous in his work. I think these lights will look nice, and I think they'll provide a lot more light than the manky chandelier we have now. It's not hideous or anything, but one of the arms is nonfunctional, and I hate cooking in the dark. It makes me feel like I'm eating at that horrible Friday's restaurant in Provo. Once we take the chandelier out, maybe I'll see if I can remove the fake candle parts and put real candles in the arms, and hang it outside over the patio.

This past Sunday we had goat again. John's parents came to dinner because his dad taught a marriage class in our ward, and they were not looking forward to having goat, but I think they really liked it--his dad had seconds, anyway. This time I braised it and I was much happier with the results. It's such a mild-tasting meat, and when it's braised it's really tender and juicy, too. I've had other people in our family try it, and they're all pleasantly surprised by how good it is. You sear the meat, then deglaze the pan with a little bit of stock and add the mirepoix, then return the meat to the pan and add the rest of the stock, then it's into the oven for long, slow cooking. Good stuff, Brother Maynard.

We had our first tomatoes on Sunday. They were good, but a little wonky, as First Tomatoes tend to be. It's like the plant has to work the kinks out for the first couple, then it takes a break before it showers you in fruit. We've been eating squash almost every day, much to Emmett's chagrin. He renounces squash and all its dark works.

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