This is a very rare bit of baking advice from me. When making zucchini bread, shred your zucchini then toss it in, oh, half a teaspoon of salt. Let it sit in your sink for awhile in a colander. Every so often mash it all down and then toss it again. Repeat after a few minutes. The salt draws out a lot of the water in the zucchini. Then make your zucchini bread, but omit at least half, if not all, of the salt your recipe calls for. Unless you like really heavy, thick bread. Which some people do! And that’s OK!
This is a between week for me. Last week was helping teach a quilting camp/running my daughter to horse camp week, next week is art camp week. So I’m working on my own projects.
My daughter’s quilt top is done. I’m basting it together now.
I think I’ve got our school year mapped out. But I think I’ve got it mapped out every year, and I don’t. This is as organized and clutter free as this shelf will be for the next twelvemonth.
A few weeks from now I’ll be like, “Why cannot you guys just keep this clean?! Whose socks are these? Why are they on the shelf? Where are the rulers? Where are the pencils? Where are the pencil sharpeners? Why is this library book here with the not library books? When was it due? What is this?! Is this food?! Is that mold?!!”
Yes, these things will come to pass, and more. And yet I cannot do anything to stop it.
Trying to enjoy summer.
My flower garden makes me very, very, very happy.
And we got goats. They’re doing a fabulous job of eating the woods behind our house. Every day they’re like nomnomnomwoods all day, and the woods are just disappearing. It’s phenomenal.
You proably know this because you payed attention in life, but I didn’t know that goats made this crying infant sound all the time. I mean, I knew they made a goat-ish sound, but I thought it was occasional, and when they are under duress.
So it’s taken me a few weeks to teach myself to 1) not cry a little bit when I hear it 2) not go rushing out to check on them when I hear it. I’m still learning to accept it.
But it still sounds like like little babies crying. But they’re fine, apparently. I run down there and they stop eating the woods for a second and just look at me like “What?”
And my dog, Scout, got bit by a poisonous snake. We thought he was a goner, but he pulled through. He gets himself in so many scrapes. I’m waiting on his annual skunking. Just hope he doesn’t corner the skunk under my neighbor’s car like he did last year. I’d look over there and see all the doors open on it where they were letting it air out and feel kind of responsible. I know it’s not uncommon to drive over a dead skunk or drive past a skunk, but when the skunk skunks right under a car, man, that’s like ground zero. For a while.
Oh, and a bat flew into our garage last night, but our cat took it out like the assassin she is.
The deer that eats apples from my neighbors apple tree just had her a baby deer! And I want to hooooooooooooold it!!
One time I was driving and a deer and her fawn were in the road. The mama saw me and went Oh, no! and jumped deftly over the goat fence next to the road. The baby saw me and went oh no! and tried to jump over the fence, but instead jumped right into a square of it and got stuck. The fawn was like days old, so tiny. It was wiggling and crying and couldn’t get unstuck. I got out of my car and went over to it because I though maybe I could help. The mama turned around and walked straight toward her fawn, toward me. The mama was snorting loudly. She got right up to the fence, snorting, and just then the baby wriggled free and ran down the length of the fence, and her mama ran down the other side of the fence and then jumped back over and they disappeared together in some brush.
Mamas will do anything for their babies. It’s pretty amazing.