Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I need to call that lady and give her back the cat formula.

Ducklings, don't think of it as washing a gallon of cheese down the drain. Think of it as washing five dollars and twelve hours down the drain. Doesn't that sound better?

I keep forgetting that I have raw milk. It's been a while since I did a quick, soft cheese that doesn't require any higher temperatures, and when I found brownish whey and curd that smelled like vomit I decided that a little bit of pasteurization might not be a bad thing for a soft, fresh cheese. Live and learn, as they say.

Haircut tomorrow. I tried to grow it out, I really did. But it's so hard to be patient! I can't continue like this.

Did I tell you that Rex and Groceries are outside cats now, eating big boy food and pooping in the litterbox? I think I did. But I wanted to mention it again, because it gives me hope that I may one day have four beautiful adult children who can feed, dress, and clean up after themselves, only occasionally pooping on people's shirts. I have that skill set now. The parenting one, I mean. Not the shirt pooping one. Although . . .