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Mad Men!

July 27, 2010

I’m watching the season premiere of Mad Men (a few days late) with my friend over Skype tonight.  Yes, that’s right.  We are going to Skype and watch Mad Men so that we can discuss every single solitary detail of the show as it’s taking place.

And I can drool over Don Draper. 

But my husband is okay with that, because I really despise Don Draper.  And I love him.  And despise him.  It’s a vicious cycle.

Let the retro days of summer begin!



July 26, 2010

Search phrase of the day that brought someone to Farm Girl’s World:

“Hot girl at chicken farm.”

Seriously, what??

I’ve really got to stop checking the blog stats.

Vegetable Mini-Meatball Soup

July 24, 2010

Here’s another crazy-good recipe from CG.  It’s kind of a cross between Italian Wedding Soup and vegetable stew.  But I’ll let her do the talking:

This one is hard to give a recipe for because I just throw in whatever I feel like it…take the meatballs, I make this vegetable soup quite a bit, but have never put in meatballs till  now, I was thinking of your Italian wedding soup, which has little meatballs, and decided to put them in my veggie soup.
So, here goes nothing.
1/2 an onion- finely chopped (only because I don’t like big chunks of onion in my soup)
1/2 C chopped carrots
chopped garlic (or garlic powder, whatever you have on hand)
2-3 Tbsp olive oil
4 C vegetable stock (I use bouillon cubes)
4 C chicken stock (again bouillon)
1 potato -cut into bite size cubes (keep in a bowl of water till ready to use)
1 can stewed tomatoes(this time it was Italian flavored)-keep liquid, chop tomatoes into bite size pieces
1/2-1 C frozen corn
1/2-1 C frozen peas
1 zucchini-sliced
1 yellow squash-sliced
*about* 1/2 cabbage-chopped
10 oz ground turkey breast
1 tsp parsley
salt/pepper/ Lawry’s salt to taste
a couple shakes of garlic powder
1 egg (or I used egg beaters)
a couple dashes of Worcestershire sauce
—Mix ingredients for meatballs together and form into marble size balls
The key to any vegetable soup is simply the order that one puts the veggies in.  The veggies that take longer to cook should go in first.
-So, I heat up a large pot and saute onion and carrots in olive oil-about 5 min
-add stewed tomatoes and juice from can-let simmer a few minutes
-add vegetable and chicken stock
-bring to a boil, then add peas and corn
-when it comes to a boil again add potatoes
-drop in meatballs, be sure to stir soup so meatballs don’t stick to the bottom
-simmer for about 5-8 minutes
-add cabbage- simmer for 10  minutes
**at this point check the potatoes, it they are almost done go ahead and put in the zucchini/yellow squash
simmer for 5-10 more minutes.
Eat and enjoy!!
Vegetable soup is not an exact science. If it needs more liquid, add more stock.  If it needs more “stuff” add more “veggies”. don’t like cabbage, try spinach, or kale! Kale is fantastic in soup! Don’t have stewed tomatoes, I have used diced tomatoes and it tastes just fine. Expriement. Have fun, after is just SOUP. 🙂

Recurring Deams

July 22, 2010

A couple nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night after having a dream and I couldn’t get back to sleep.  As I laid there, listening to the fan and one of the cats snoring (I’m pretty sure it was a cat and not my husband…), I started thinking about all the dreams that I have on a regular basis (because that is one of the dreams that woke me up in the first place and I was a little bitter over the fact.)  I realized that I have a lot of them.

The next day at work, I asked my co-worker what kind of recurring dreams she has.  She shook her head.  “I don’t ever remember my dreams,” she said.  Huh, I thought.  I remember at least one dream a night and I know there are a ton that I forget.  So I asked another coworker and she replied, “I don’t have recurring dreams.”  Augh! So, being the stubborn Swedish person that I am, I then asked every single person I work with. 

I have since come to the conclusion that I work with the most boring dreamers on the planet.

I guess I make up for them though.  I have six common dreams.  They start out fairly normal…mediocre in the creativity department.  And then they…well, they kind of spiral into the bizarre:

Falling ~ Boring.  Everyone has this one, don’t they?  You’re about to fall asleep and you jolt awake because you feel as if  you’re slipping off the tilting bed.  I read once that this is just your muscles relaxing.  So does that even count as a dream?

Being (almost) naked in public ~ I usually dream that I’m changing clothes or something in the middle of a store or some other crowded place.  The thing that makes this dream weird is the fact that I don’t care.  I’m just walking around in my underwear, being all exhibitionist and I don’t give a lick.  It’s not until I wake up and think, Dang.  I really should have been a little more modest there.

Jumping into a big body of water right before an explosion ~ This is the dream that woke me up the other night.  This one varies a lot.  It usually starts out as some kind of action sequence where I’m escaping from some Russian spies or stealing the secret formula to make Shasta, but it always ends with me running and jumping into a lake seconds before a bomb explodes.  And there’s usually a helicopter involved.  It’s very Magnum, P.I.-ish.

Ninjas ~ I’ve been dreaming about ninjas since I was about 5.  (Apparently, I was never normal.)  The ninja dreams sometimes border on nightmares because I’m in a room, unable to scream or move but I know that there are ninjas lurking where I can’t see them.  Other times, I’m in the middle of an action sequence (see previous dream) and I’m fighting ninjas.  And then I jump in a lake and something explodes.

George Stephanopoulos is the father of my baby ~ I’ve been  having this dream since high school.  The origins are pretty hazy, as I was not very politically-minded at that time, but it definitely has staying power.  In the original dream, I was 16 years old, standing in my parents’ living room and holding a baby.  My dad was shaking his head and my mom asked “Well, who’s the father?”  I looked around in panic and then the front door opened and George Stephanopoulos walked in.  “I am,” he pronounced.  “Yes!”  I exclaimed.  “He is!”  A few years later, during the first season of 24, I had a dream that I was lying in a hospital bed and holding a baby. I was surrounded by my friends and family and (of course) George Stephanopoulos and someone asked, “What’s the baby’s name?”  Again, I panicked.  “What is it?” I asked.  “A boy,” my mom said.  “His name is Jack,” I answered.  “Jack…um…Bauer.  Jack Bauer Stephanopoulos.”

I’m making Christmas cookies with Condoleezza Rice ~ I honestly think that this one was born from the George Stephanopoulos dream and the pure absurdity of it.  Yet it seems to persist in my dream repertoire.  In this dream, Condy and I are baking in my kitchen and I’m getting very frustrated because she is bossing me around.  It is my kitchen, after all.

So, there are my dreams.  I’m not really sure what they say about me as a person or my personality. 

I’m not really sure I want to know.

Hi-Ho the Dairy-O…

July 21, 2010

Because it’s a beautiful evening and I want to go outside…

Because Farm Boy will be home any minute and we’re going to grill burgers…

Because I had a long day at work…

I’m not going to post what I was planning on posting today.  That would require sitting at the computer for too long.  Instead, I’m going to leave you with a few pictures of animals from the farm.  I mean, seriously, whose day isn’t brightened by some pictures of baby animals?

This is one of our bull calves.  I named him Harvey.

This is our neighbor’s pony.  His name is Reno.

This is a chipmunk.  He wasn’t actually on the farm, but I thought he was cute and deserved to be in this post.  He doesn’t have a name.

This little guy may not be as furry as the others, but look at how microscopic he is!  Isn’t he cute?  I named him Esteban.

Spicy Steak Sandwiches

July 17, 2010

There are two types of people in the world: those who like beef and those who like chicken. 

And those who like seafood.

And vegetarians, I guess.

Okay, never mind.  What I was getting at is the fact that I’ve always been a chicken girl.  I love chicken and the majority of my cooking repertoire revolves around chicken.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t crave a good steak every now and then.  Usually, I’ll make Rosemary Steak (with or without the portebello sauce), but a little while back, cube steak was on sale.  I wasn’t really sure what to do with it, but I never pass up a good deal. 

And then it hit me: Steak Sandwich!  I putzed around a bit in the kitchen and this is what I came up with.   Quite delicious, if I do say so myself!

  • 1 medium sweet onion, sliced
  • 1 Tbs. + 1 tsp. light butter, divided
  • 1 Tbs. balsamic vinegar
  • 1 lb. cube steak, sliced into strips
  • 1 tsp. garlic powder
  • 2 Tbs. Worcestershire sauce
  • 1-2 tsp. hot sauce
  • 3/4 tsp. freshly ground pepper
  • 1/4 tsp. seasoned salt

Melt 1 Tbs. light butter in skillet over medium heat.  Add sliced onions and saute until they begin to soften.  Stir in balsamic vinegar and 1/4 teaspoon pepper; cook until carmelized, stirring occasionally.  Remove onions from pan and add remaining teaspoon of butter.  Add beef and 1/2 teaspoon pepper to taste.  Wait a few minutes for beef to get a good color before flipping.  Add seasoned salt and cook until beef is thoroughly done.  Add Worcestershire and hot sauce and reduce heat.  Let simmer 2 to 3 minutes, then add onions back to pan.  Stir until heated through.  Serve on toasted buns.

A Kid, A Lawn Mower and Jesus

July 15, 2010

My nephew Sam is one amazing kid. 

He’s got thick blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes and this mischievious grin that is too old for his 6 years.  He can memorize movie lines better than most adults, knows every type of farm equipment and what it does (even though he doesn’t live on a farm and his parents are a teacher and a physician’s assistant) and he can make friends with anyone from ages 1 to 91. 

And he has said some of the funniest things I think I have ever heard.

My favorite Sam story is from a few years ago, when he was about four.  My brother’s church has a fairly large lawn and during the summer, they ask members to volunteer to mow it weekly.  Erik, being the good church member that he is, signed up to help.  At the time, Sam was knee-deep in his obsession with tractors, so Erik thought that he’d get a kick out of helping cut the grass with the church’s new state-of-the-art lawn mower.  (Side note: I know that most people call them “lawn tractors”, but after being enmeshed with the daily activities on a farm for the past seven years, I cannot bring myself to call anything that does not have tires as tall as myself a “tractor.”)

When they got to the church, Erik led the way to the shed that held the church’s landscaping equipment.  As he pulled the door open, the lawn mower came into sight and Sam went silent.  Then he clenched his little hands into fists and started shaking with excitement.

“Oh, Dad!”  Sam said breathlessly.  “I didn’t know that Jesus had such a nice lawn mower!”

Okay, seriously, doesn’t that just melt your heart?!?