It was mid-afternoon before I pulled up a recipe from the internet and tweaked it a bit to adapt to my available ingredients.
1 cup roasted squash puree
1 1/3 cups sugar
1/3 Cup oil
2 eggs
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
......
I cut the squash, put 1/2 inch of water in a pan and stuck it in the oven for an hour.
I had to let it cool, and then I did the scooping.
I got the other ingredients out of the cupboard and lined them up.
Got out bowls for mixing.
Got out pans for baking.
Got out the mixer.
Answered the phone.
"I've got free tickets to a pizza-pasta meal!" said that Yard Man. "I'll be home in an hour, and then we'll have to head straight for the place if we're going to go to First Friday afterwards!"
"Well, it's your birthday," I said. "We'll do what you want, but there goes the birthday cake!"
......
The Birthday Man came home with the tickets and away we went. He couldn't give me any details about the meal to which we were headed, other than, you know, there'd be pizza and pasta. When we arrived at the big tents in the middle of a field and I saw forty port-a-potties in a row, I got nervous! Turns out the meal was a supper in advance of a running (marathon) event that was scheduled for the following day. Some activities were going on that evening, as well, but the crowd wasn't too massive when we arrived (more of a six-potty size [maybe eight]).
We ate our carb-filled meal with Gordon and Sally (not their real names because, Reader Dear, now who the heck did they say they were?) They had traveled to the event from Baltimore, and like to run and bike, they told us. It's such a pretty part of the country, they said, and seeing the Amish was also a draw. It was Gordon and Sally who explained all the up-coming events scheduled for the weekend (including the children's run and the making of s'mores later that evening). "There will be folks here tomorrow from forty-six states and three foreign countries," Gordon told us.
The Yard Man (aka today's Birthday Man) had a great time explaining things, too--the Amish, local farming practices, the ideas put forth for healthful eating by Oasis (the food co-op), to name a few. By the time we said good-bye to Gordon and Sally, and they wished the Birthday Man further happiness throughout his birthday evening, it seemed just a little sad to muse upon the fact that the forty-five minutes of pleasant conversation we enjoyed with Gordon and Sally (not their real names) would never be repeated.
But it was okay. We left the tents and the port-a-potties and Gordon and Sally and the pizza and pasta, and drove in to the city to meet our dear friends Ernest and Nellie (not their real names, Reader Dear, because what the heck, it's kind of fun to make up aliases for our friends! )
We had (a second) birthday supper late in the evening.
But no birthday cake.
Meanwhile, that bowl of pureed Happy Birthday squash has been quietly waiting in the fridge for five days. I think it's quietly planning to go bad any time now.
......
4 comments:
You're such socialites.
I love using words wrong.
Huh? Did you use a word wrong? Did *I* use a word wrong?! I'm scouring the blog post!
Q.
Because, ha, of course we are socialites (even if hobnobbing with Gordon and Sally doesn't make us so)!
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