First of all, let me just say that blogging after 2 and a half glasses of wine is probably not the best idea I’ve ever had. Matter of fact, it could be a very poor lapse in judgment. <—Which is spelled with no e there between the g and the m. And spelled can also be spelled as spelt. Which is also a grain. I’ve never had it, but I’ve heard it’s good. My favorite grain is oatmeal. Not that Quaker oat stuff. That is like wallpaper paste. I think it is anyway. I’ve never seen wallpaper paste. Mostly because I don’t like wallpaper and the one time I put up a wallpaper border, no wallpaper paste was needed. Only dipping in water. Anywho, if my grocery store doesn’t start stocking steel cut oats again soon, I may have to do something drastic. Drastic like how, you ask? Oh, man, maybe I’ll just do something crazy like write an angry e-mail. “Dear sir or ma’am, Please start stocking steel cut oats or I may have to start shopping at another store. Sincerely, me” Yep, that’s right, I’m a badass! Don’t make me angry! I’ll fill your inbox with annoying e-mails! Don’t make me hit send! Wait, did I talk about that pie that’s in the picture up there? O, Great Pumpkin, Ruler of all things orange and round! It was the best pumpkin pie I’ve ever made. Seriously. Labor intensive. But anything worth doing is worth doing well, right? I had that on a poster that hung over my bed when I was in the 6th grade. It was next to my Peter Frampton poster. Other girls liked David Cassidy, but he wasn’t for me. I loved Peter Frampton. He had chest hair! I had no idea why that was sexy, I just knew it was. Wait, what were we talking about?
Let’s not talk about 6th grade or Middle School. Painful years for me.
Oh yes, pumpkin pie. It was magnificent. If you want the recipe, go here. I’d type it all out, but, well, you know, there was wine and all.
P.S. After reading this over, I realize that the “Anything worth doing is worth doing well” juxtaposed next to my adolescent lusting for Peter Frampton sounds vaguely dirty. I didn’t mean it that way and I beg your forgiveness. See? This is why you don’t drink and blog. Mea culpa.