my weekend in numbers – FO 25

12 – the number of sleeps remaining in our apartment.

2 – the number of invisible zips I sewed
1 – pair of shorts I successfully shortened
1 – curtain I was meant to sew up but that is lost somewhere in the abyss that it the spare room.
4 – the amount of times I couldn’t find where I left the scissors
5 – how many pairs of scissors I put away after I had finished.

48 – the number of stitches to cast on with DK weight yarn on
3.25 – mm needles for a pair of socks
3 – days it took these socks from start to finish
8 – the number of times I oohed and ahhed at the way the hand dyed yarn was knitting up
20billion – the actual number of times I marveled at my hand dyed yarn.

5 – the number of fat quarters I bought at Spotlight
0 – how many balls of yarn I didn’t buy because none of it took my fancy

2 – the number of friends who have birthdays in the next 2 weeks
2 – the number of presents I have finished for said birthdays

16* – the number of Bobs Burger episodes I watched on the weekend
7* – the number of Leverage episodes I watched
6* – the number of Parks & Recreation episodes watched.

3 – the number of bands I saw on Friday night
1 – the number of songs that I knew well enough to sing along to.

4 – the number of tacos I ate last night
0 – the number of tacos I made for myself

3 – the number of mosquito bites that I can’t stop scratching.






*I don’t know exactly how many episodes I watched. These numbers are estimated guesses.



Not my usual knitting post

It’s a different kind of finished object.
An edible finished object.

A strawberry to be precise. Grown by my green thumbed bloke, eaten by me.

My bloke doesn’t even like strawberries, but he grows them for me.

It was a bit of sweetness to start a Friday in what has been a very long week. 20121005-073307.jpg


(I did have a massive long post which I wrote one sleepless night this week, but lets just leave it at, it’s been a long week and I’m grateful it’s the weekend coming up)

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A moment of genius

My rissole recipe, but instead of breadcrumbs crushed potato crisps.

It’s never going to win a weight watchers recipe contest, but it was very tasty. Rissoles taste better the next day in a sandwich, but that’s if they last that long.

basic rissoles
Put all these ingredients in a bowl
500g mince, 1 egg, 1 slice bread soaked in water, 1 diced onion, 1 squeeze of BBQ sauce, salt & pepper
Get squelchy and mix all together, hands work great.
(always make sure that you prepare the breadcrumbs/crushed potato crisps before you start mixing. It makes it easier)

Make into patty shapes. Coat in crushed potato crisps.

Put into fridge for about half an hour.

Give to the gentleman friend to cook on the barbecue. (I’m hopeless at pan frying these.)






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Some pork on the fork

Well we have our gender stereotypes down pat. I made the potato salad whilst the Mr made the pork chops.

Maybe its gender stereotypes, but it does play to our strengths.

The man loves his barbecue.
And he can cook some good pork. It was seasoned generously while he warmed up the barbie with the lid closed. Then he put the meat in trying not to let too much hot air escape.
Or at least that’s the description I got.

This iteration of potato salad consisted of bacon, of course, peas, celery, onion, potatoes and lots and lots of fresh parsley and chives.
Topped off with some grated cheddar and store bought Caesar dressing it was a good accompaniment to the pork. Which was divine.

I’m not ashamed to say I got as much meat off the bone as I could. And may have growled when my plate was being taken away. It was so good.

Stereotypes be damned. My man does a mean BBQ.




Comfort food – bacon is not a vegetable

Nothing quite like snuggling on the couch, with new Parks and Recs. Me casting on a new minion while my boy cooks me dinner.
We both had pretty crappy days so the image of Ron Swanson swiveling around in his idea of hell (a circular desk) was just what we needed.

The mashed potato has bacon in it.

It’s nights like this I’m so grateful I have found someone so wonderful to share my life with.
I’m one lucky girl.




When the moon hits your eye…

Like a big pizza pie, that’s amore.

I love that song.

And I love pizza, particularly when it’s made for me. I even had 34 cents of olives to keep me happy.
It’s a bit of a pain that the Mister won’t eat olives, but he loves me enough to put them on my pizzas because I love them. I have been known to polish off a tin of olives before they got into whatever I’m cooking.

So I’m afraid I don’t know what was in these pizzas. The only technique was “a little bit of this, and then a bit more, and then some more until it looked good”.

I was busy catching up on my EA sports work out challenge. Being unwell I missed 3 workouts so I did them all at once. I now have the program down to a pretty decent cost per use (well under the cost of a gym membership).
I love my body. It does most things I ask it to, even if it does creak and crack. I’m just acutely aware that we’ve both put on a bit of relationship weight. Probably because we’re eating so well!
So I’m trying to move a bit more, eat a bit better, and drink a bit less. I sleep better and am happier, less stressed and more positive when I exercise. All good things considering everything that is going on in my life at the moment. And if my clothes fit a little better that can only be a plus.

So mini pizzas, with bacon, onion, cheese, olives, basil, salami, and possibly some other ingredients.