Mootsie and I went to JoAnn Fabrics the other day. She's super interested in colors (although everything is "blue" or "yellow"), so she sat happily in the cart while I waded through bolts of fabric. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. Spring maybe. Why is it that just when you've had just about enough of winter, buckets of snow fall from the sky and temperatures drop to single digits? Ugh. The bungalow has it's orginal wood windows. They do an excellent job of keeping out the cold most days, but they were no match for nighttime lows this week.
I decided to whip up some window snakes in a springy calico, and they seem to be working. I'm pretty sure the fact that it's a balmy 40 degrees today has nothing to do with it.
I had a mad craving for Patachou granola on Friday, so I stopped to pick some up for the weekend. The stuff is insanely delicious. It's also $10 per pound, so the next time I get a hankering for granola, I may try Ina's recipe or this one. It seems like I'm not the only one who was jonesing for the tasty, yet healthy (Right? Right? C'mon lie to me.) treat. And because there is a fantastic flower shop right next door to Patachou, I also treated my self to a pretty, little bouquet of tulips just because.
Snow. Finally snow. Somehow the six inches we got yesterday make the frigid temps here worthwhile. Almost.
Mootsie doesn't like to be in one place for too long. I noticed this about her when she was just a few months old. I swear she would look at me like, "Hey, lady. The walls are closing in on me. You're no longer entertaining. Let's go somewhere." So somewhere we would go -- to the grocery store, the park, a walk. It didn't matter as long as she got some new scenery every few hours. Well, yesterday the roads were a wreck. To head off cabin fever, I went in search of an oatmeal raisin cookie recipe. I used to use the one on the back of the Quaker Oats package, but call me crazy, I think it's changed. Lately, it's yielded cakey cookies, and I'm a crispy, chewy girl. I gave this one a whirl with the help of a very excited toddler. We put on some baking music and pulled Mootsie's Trip Trap chair over. I creamed the butter, eggs and sugar and gave the spoon to Mootsie so she could stir. She moved the spoon a bit and then got a devilish look on her face. Before I could say, "No! Samonella," she had sampled the mix. Kid, I swear. But oh, the little shimmy of happiness that came from that stolen, sweet nibble. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. While the cookies baked, we danced around the kitchen in our flour-covered aprons. (She, of course, tried to eat the flour, too. Sigh.)
Mootsie also donned two oven mits, which is ironic because the girl refuses to wear mittens. See? About two seconds after I snapped this picture, she fell fingers-first into a pile of snow. Hysterics ensued. And only the most delicious oatmeal cookie ever with milk could make it better.