everything on a pizza

Whenever I cook something that's mostly made up, I have a tendency to google the idea first. It's kind of a safety measure, I suppose. Even if I don't end up following the recipe (and I've never not found one...what does that tell ya?), it's reassuring to know that I'm not the only one to attempt to cook a particular thing in a particular way. Today's efforts were so successful I feel like sharing...though fans of Mr. Rogers will recognize that it is useless to talk about sharing my yummy food with you when it is impossible to actually do so.

Nevertheless, maybe you can make it yourself...and I apologize, because I didn't measure everything.

So, I started with basic pizza crust. Want my recipe? Email me! To that, I added some dried rosemary, garlic salt, (enough of each so it smelled good...sorry, mom) and parmesan cheese. And then, I let my breadmaker handle that part.

When the dough was ready, I spread a teeny bit of dijon mustard on it (thanks, google!). I was disappointed that I didn't really taste the mustard in the final result...maybe more than a teeny bit is called for.

On top of that went a can of recipe-ready diced tomatoes with mushroom and garlic. I know, fresh tomatoes are better, but I didn't have any...and this was "pizza for which I don't have to buy anything" night.

Then, I sliced up five leaves of fresh basil and threw those on top of the tomatoes.

Next, a small can of sliced black olives.

Then, the part that made me google this. I was out of mozzerella, but I had brie (How much brie, you might ask...well, as much as was in my fridge...a bit more than half a wedge of brie, I guess). I cut the brie (after taking off the rind) into little, bite-sized pieces.

Didn't quite cover the pizza, so I added some grated grueyere and parmesan.

22 min. at 400 degrees; let stand for a few minutes before attempting to eat it.

Yummy!!

Not as much fun? Fried pickles...but I'll keep trying!

sigh

Ok. I know. Summer vacation is the best, most wonderful thing about being a teacher. Everyone in the business world drools with envy at the mere mention of such a thing. Got it.

But here's the thing.

Sometimes, it gets boring. Shhhhh...don't remind me about this post in the midst of darkest February. We'll just pretend I never mentioned it. However, it must be admitted that, come July, especially with a new school and a new grade looming on the horizon, I'm feeling restless and unsatisfied. Y'know that feeling you'd get at camp (VT or TL) where the only thing you could work up the energy for was to sit on the porch and read? All around you, people were doing fun summer-time things: hiking, boating, swimming, identifying the moons of Jupiter...and all you wanted to do was sit. And then, one day, it was the last day and there were so many things you hadn't done! That's how summer feels.

If I were an Australian shepherd, all I'd need to feel like I'd gotten the most out of my free time would be an empty ginger ale bottle. Even then, though, the lingering doubts: what if the empty ginger ale bottle under that chair is even better than this one?

So, today I bebopped into a nearby urban-ish enclave (the one in the middle of this town and the town where I used to work) for a change of pace. I walked on sidewalks; I practiced not making eye-contact with fellow pedestrians; I read my book at a table outside a coffee shop; I ate weird vegetarian food and drank organic wine. It was nice.

Didn't get rid of the nagging guilty feeling I have about how much preplanning I should be able to get done over the summer...but, it did make me feel better.

You Are The Hermit

You posses a great deal of wisdom and the ability to see people for who they are. You are always looking ahead at the future, developing visions. A loner, you tend to travel by yourself through life, seeking your own truth. You don't crave material things or fancy titles. You have no baggage. Your fortune: It's possible that there is a unknown guiding figure in your life, ready to help you. All you have to do is find this person and seek their advice. It's also possible that you need to start seeking the meaning of your own life. Either way, there's some deep thinking you need to undertake, and it needs to be done soon.

What Tarot Card Are You?

Summer blockbusters - Yay! I went to see Transformers this evening.
Wooden dialogue: check!
Wackadoo holes in the plot: check!
Crazy, straight-to-video-game catch phrases: check!
Laws of physics: abandoned!

But my favorite thing was this: in the midst of this apocalyptic clash with a technologically advanced race of super-robots, bent on human destruction (or at least, the destruction of, say, Detroit), there's only one scene involving an actual appearance by the President of the United States - and you only see his (bright red) socks...and all he does is ask (in a thick, quasi-Texan drawl) for Ding Dongs (in a way that betrays his overtly sexist nature). That's it! I guess that's what happens when the President's popularity numbers sink too low: even his fictional counterparts don't get any respect.

I'm very happy about that. I may try to insert the phrase: "How 'bout some Ding Dongs, sweetheart," into conversation as frequently as possible from now on. And, I think it'd be fun to think up other lines for the President's socks to deliver in up-coming summer movies. C'mon, my legion of readers! I challenge you to think of things both sexist (or any-ist) and dumb for the President's socks to say...Prizes will be awarded!

Prizes!

Argh!

For years, I've blindly stuffed laundry into the machine, washing everything with the same settings, only occasionally giving in to the pleas from the garment care instructions for a particular water temperature or line drying.

And it worked! I swear, for years, it didn't seem to matter what I threw in with what, or how I washed things or dried 'em...The laundry gods were smiling upon me. I mean, I don't wear a lot of white, so maybe I had an artificially inflated sense of optimism about laundry, but hey...it was working for me.

Recently, let's say within the past two years, my laundry karma has gone all out of wack. Red socks end up in loads of pastel delicates washed, inexplicably, in hot water, and sent straight to the dryer. Dry-clean-only dresses end up wrapped hopelessly around the agitator-thingy in the middle of the washer. Crayons get left in pockets...it's a bad scene. I've been accused of plotting these things purposefully (dying a load of my hubby's socks a lovely shade of pink, for example), so as to avoid being asked to do laundry for all but the bravest souls in the household (umm...that'd be the dogs, I guess).

So, today, I (being my father's daughter) found a rack of pretty sundresses hiding out at the local discount/salvage store and bought a few. I tossed 'em in the washing machine when I got them home (throwing in my favorite sundress for good measure, 'cause, hey, it was sundress-washing-time!). I tried! I used the delicates cycle, and cold water...and they were all similar shades (if not identical...). None were white! So...this one that had a pattern of darker colors around the bottom bled onto the others. Seems, perhaps, predictable, but I am SAD!

I spent some time googling this problem, and am now dutifully soaking the two bled-onto dresses, preparing to re-wash them. But, so far, the soaking doesn't seem to be doing any good. Sigh...I won't give up on the process yet...but SAD!

Anyway, this seemed the perfect topping for blarggity blogging. Tips and sympathy (and emergency supplies of cotton sundresses!) appreciated...